


We are the Demons in Silence

by KrisRix, Nightrayspath



Category: Carry On Series - Rainbow Rowell
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Urban Fantasy, Angst with a Happy Ending, Art, Bartender Baz, Blood Drinking, Blood and Gore, Blood and Injury, Bottom Baz, Carry On Big Bang, Carry On Big Bang 2020, Child Death, Dark Magic, Death, Demon Hunter Simon, Demon Summoning, Demons, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Fanart, Graphic Description of Corpses, Idiots in Love, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Incubus Baz, Light BDSM, Light Bondage, M/M, Magic, Mind Control, Mind Manipulation, Minor Character Death, Miscommunication, Misunderstandings, Murder Mystery, Mutual Pining, NSFW Art, Occult, Rough Sex, Semi-Public Sex, Sex Toys, Skeletons, Temporary Character Death, Top Simon, Unethical Experimentation, Witch Penny
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-18
Updated: 2021-01-23
Packaged: 2021-03-05 22:09:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 14
Words: 70,025
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25952713
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KrisRix/pseuds/KrisRix, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nightrayspath/pseuds/Nightrayspath
Summary: The stench of sulfur hung in the air. There was a new victim: a peaceful, smiling face, with not a single drop of blood left in their body. Demon hunter Simon Snow was sent to investigate by Mayor Mage. The word "vampire" floated through Simon's mind…A clue carried by one of the victims, a card for the club 'Pitch Black, lead Simon straight into the arms of his old nemesis. Someone he hadn't seen since their school days.Baz Pitch hadn't changed. He still exuded that same dangerous charm, and Simon was helplessly drawn to him.But Baz's connection to the murders could not be denied. And there was a shadow following him in the night. A web of death and blood entangled Simon and Baz's lives together once more, all while the city of Watford was kept awake at night by the looming threat of the killer.
Relationships: Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Pitch/Simon Snow
Comments: 66
Kudos: 240
Collections: Carry On Big Bang 2020





	1. Sinners & Saints

**Author's Note:**

> Here is my contribution to the Carry On Big Bang 2020.  
> I had the wonderful luck to get paired with the amazing [ KrisRix ](http://krisrix.tumblr.com/), whose art is just magical or in this case demonic.  
> All hail my beta and Kris, for taming the comma less hell that my fic used to be.  
> The fic is done, even though I sometimes wanted to banish it to the literal nine circles of hell.  
> This is my first time writing Snowbaz so I hope you enjoy it! ❤️
> 
> There will be a chapter every two days with more illustrations! So the next chapter will appear on the 20th!

  


“This is ridiculous.” Simon Snow said as he rolled out of the way of a massive pillar of black smoke. The city of Watford was a very peaceful place. The crime rate was at an all-time low, or so the newspaper had proclaimed this morning. Simon would call that a big fat lie as he evaded another column of smoke.

The city of Watford was a city of a dual spectrum. On one side the Normals lived, not knowing what else lived among them. Watford was one of the only cities where magical beings and Normals lived in one place. Not that the Normals knew of the magical community that lived beside them, of course.

“Oh fuck this,” Simon cursed as he drew his blade and blocked the next rush. The stench of sulfur was overwhelming. It filled the air and threatened to choke you. The ground sizzled and hissed where the smoke made contact. He hated demon summonings. He hated them with a passion. There was a reason why demonology has been banned since the fifteenth century. But no, people just had to summon random demons. Either a crazy Normal, or an in his opinion equally crazy supernatural being decided that they needed the help of a diabolical demon. Some people really needed a few more brain cells. He hated dealing with this kind of mess. 

Through the thick black fog, he could just see the red glowing summoning circle. In the center of the circle, the vague shape of a gigantic, burnt hand seemed to reach out of pure darkness. In the middle of the palm a dark, red eye lazily blinked as it glowed eerily in the darkness. With each blink, black smoke rose and spread out. Demonic energy sparked in the air, so potent that the floor and ceiling slowly started to drip with it. It was like the most potent acid as it ate away at everything it touched. Powerful and just as deadly to mortals. A single touch could devour flesh down to the marrow of the bones.

Simon swung his sword and it sang through the air. An arm of smoke dissolved where the blade touched it. Simon was the only one known to be able to resist the coercion and corruption of demonic energy. Maybe that was why he was always asked to deal with these bloody demons. He skittered across the floor towards the summoning circle.

He could hear a thousand voices speak at once the closer he got. Seduction and promises called from the pit of hell. Simon felt the tattoos on his arms flare up in answer. The black runes tattooed beneath his skin glimmered as their power was awakened. Their protection made it so that there was no power in the words. The compulsion slid over him like a small breeze. There was no pull and no desire to fulfill the demon’s wishes. The summoner had no such aid in resisting the call.

Out of the corner of his eyes, he could make out the form of the summoner rising as if in trance. He hated it when supposed demon summoners forgot the most basic thing: Protection. The only way one could protect oneself against a demon was either by binding them to their will or to incorporate a trap in the summoning circle. This idiotic summoner had not even attempted to include either in her circle. He needed to break the circle now, before the summoner did something stupid or the demon managed to get through. One arm was already bothersome enough. The whole demon would be far worse. 

Simon took a leap forward and his sword glinted with the power of the runes etched into its blade. With a loud hiss and a rain of sparks, his sword broke the rune encirclement. A loud boom resounded and he flew backwards. His back hit the wall and he could feel the pain like a dull throb. Smoke and dust rose from the ground.

Simon coughed and tried to shield his eyes from the dirt. When the dust settled, the demon arm had disappeared, leaving behind nothing but a blackened ceiling and floor. The summoner lay unconscious on the ground. Simon got to his feet with a groan. His back felt like it was black and blue. He walked towards the summoner and picked up the book lying by her feet. Penny would have a field day with this book. A book that explained a summoning without proper protection was always bad and a bloody inconvenience. His day had started out so well, too. Lunch at Ebb’s had been lovely and then this happened. With a sigh he fished his phone out of his pockets. It had once again proven to be sturdy enough to survive the fight. 

A phone call later, and the magical enforcers arrived and took the summoner away. Simon could also be classified as an enforcer or a policeman of the magical world. More often than not, he worked independently or by request of the Mage. The Mage was the mayor and the head of the magical council. He was the first person to ever hold both positions at once. Now his time in office was coming to an end and re-elections have started. It would be his third time running for office.

Simon stepped outside into the rain. He closed his eyes and breathed deeply. He dialed Penny and after one ring she picked up.

“How badly injured are you?” were the first words out of her mouth.

“Only a few bruises, and I am not always injured,” Simon said with a roll of his eyes as he walked towards the place where he had parked his bike. It was one of his most precious possessions. It had taken him a while to save up the money to buy the beautiful dark red motorbike. She worked like a dream as the motor roared to life beneath him. No matter the wind or the rain, she never lost her grip on the road. Every single line was perfection. The spells that were added to her made her glow almost unnoticeably. Penny’s magic had turned the motorbike into a piece of art. He named the motorbike Cherry. He patted her with clear affection.

“Name one time you did not get injured,” Penny said.

“The time with the merwolves,” Simon answered as he put the book into the luggage compartment of the bike.

“Si, you almost drowned that time.” Penny sounded exasperated over the phone and Simon could just imagine her expression of disbelief.

“Fine. I got another book for you,” Simon said while he got on the bike.

“Oh? Wasn’t it just a noise complaint?” Penny asked and Simon could hear something bubble in the background of the call. He decided that it was better not to ask.

“The noise the neighbor complained about was the chanting of a demon summoning,” Simon said with a sigh. Penny let out a sound of mirth. Their conversation was interrupted by a second call. Simon looked at his cell and the name ‘The Mage’ was displayed in bold letters.

“Gotta go, Pen. The Mage is calling.” Simon said and hung up on his best friend in a hurry. The call from the Mage was from his secretary, who informed him that the Mage needed him urgently. Simon looked down at himself. He was covered in dirt and not even the rain had managed to flush it away. With a shrug, he ignored it. If it was this urgent, he had no time to change. 

He turned the ignition and his motorbike roared to life. He put on his helmet. The one time he had forgotten to do so, Penny had almost scolded him to hell and back. He still vividly remembered her presentation about head injuries and their complications. He had never wanted to see it again. Too many broken skulls, squished brains and brain injuries all in all.

The roads were wet. They reflected the gloomy grey sky in the puddles that slowly filled the crevices of the road. Simon felt like it had been nothing but rain for the last several weeks. It made him feel restless. There was an itch he could just not scratch. He needed something to do. The demon summoning had, as annoying as it was, come at just the right time. He parked his bike next to the city council. If the call for the noise complaint hadn’t come, he might have started another project. Penny had not forgiven him for the last one. It had only ended in a mild disaster. Bullets and microwaves do not mix. He was lucky that Penny was a witch or else they would never get the deposit from the landlord back. Explosions and mishaps happened too often in their home. The cause was either Penny’s research or his boredom. Since Penny’s break up, the research in their shared flat has gone significantly up. Just last week a small-scale explosion happened in their kitchen. Their apartment had been filled with bright green slime for hours. Somehow they had managed to get rid of it before anyone noticed. Their landlord might really hate them.

As he mused about their grumpy old landlord, he nearly walked past the entrance of the house of the mayor. Davy Mage has been the mayor of the city of Watford for nearly four years, with re-elections for another two-year term happening right now. The chances that he would be reelected were high, even though his political rival Malcom Grimm was rapidly gaining support. Before that, the Mage was the headmaster of the Watford School of Magicks, the same school Simon had attended.

Even though Simon has an enormous amount of magical power, he could not use even a spark of that power. He stopped going to school and instead started to help out around the city. He hunted those that disturbed the peace. More often than not, he had to deal with some poor fool who summoned a demon and released a blood bath. Demons liked to play with mortals. To them, they were nothing more than toys. Just like how mages had magical power, demons were filled with demonic energy. Even a single wisp of that energy could burn out your arteries and melt the skin of your flesh. Simon has been the only one who has managed to kill a demon without dying. Penny has called him a demon hunter more than once. Even Agatha has called him that. He did not feel like a demon hunter though. More often than demons, he had to deal with squabbling magical folk. Just last week, a fae got into an argument with a goblin about the concept of beauty. They nearly destroyed a whole block of the city. It had taken Simon an eternity to settle the dispute. Just remembering it caused him to grimace.

Though he preferred these scenarios to those where he had to draw his sword and spill blood. The gun he had been gifted from the Mage was almost never drawn. For some reason, the thought of using it made him freeze. The gun left him with a feeling as if he was wading through tar. It was safely locked away. 

He stepped into the elevator. A cheerful melody rang out of the speakers and Simon could not stop himself from humming along. Penny would have already muted the speakers. With a ding, the doors opened and he stepped into a lavish hallway. A red carpet was laid out, and vases with tall green plants lined the walls. Landscape paintings were hung on the walls, and for a moment Simon got lost in the image of a raging sea. At one point, he had wanted to visit the ocean. He’s never been.

In front of a large mahogany door, a polished wooden desk stood. The Mage’s secretary was sitting behind it. It seemed that she was on the phone with someone who was not giving her the time of day. She looked grumpy. She did smile at Simon though when she caught sight of him. He ignored the sharp glint of her teeth. With a wave of her hand, she signaled to him that he should just enter the Mage’s office.

The office was large and spacious, but for some reason no matter how old he was, it always made Simon nervous. The Mage had pulled him out of the orphanage and enrolled him in school. He was his mentor. The person he would forever be grateful to. Even though he was sent back to the care homes every holiday. Simon slowly walked into the room. The Mage was sitting behind a massive desk surrounded by stacks of paper.

“Ah, Simon, please have a seat,” he said as he smiled before looking back down towards the document he had been reading. With a flourish, he signed his name and neatly laid the paper on one of the stacks.

“You called for me, sir?” Simon asked while he slowly sat down in the chair opposite the desk. He always felt like he was back to being a teenager in front of the man.

“Yes. How are you, Simon?” he asked with a gentle smile as his eyes focused on Simon. His gaze seemed to see through everything. 

“Just fine, sir.” Simon answered dutifully. 

“No new wounds?” the Mage asked, concern clearly displayed across his features. 

“None,” Simon said. He could feel the bruises lightly burn across his back. With each wound, he had gotten a lecture during his school years. A lecture asking him why he didn’t avoid the injury, why he didn’t do better. At some point, Simon stopped telling him about the bruises. 

“Good,” the Mage said with a pleased smile. “We have a situation.” The gentle smile turned into a stern expression. Worry was clearly drawn upon his brow. “Someone is murdering people in my city.” The Mage leaned back into his plush chair. He looked tired and as if he had aged years in just a moment.

“Murdering?” Simon asked as he straightened.

“This is the third person who has died,” the Mage said as he handed a folder over to Simon. He opened the folder. The first thing he saw was the picture of an old lady with bloody bite marks all over her throat.

“Do we know what killed them?” Simon asked as he looked through it.

“They were drained of all of their blood,” the Mage said in a grave voice.

“Vampires?” Simon asked with a worried frown.

“The investigation is still ongoing, but the coroner said that the bite is a bit too messy for a vampire,” the Mage said with a frown.

“Have any of the victims belonged to the magical community?” Simon asked as he flicked through the files. All of the victims were murdered in alleys and all of them were killed during night time, but that’s where their similarities ended. 

“None as of yet,” the Mage said with a sigh. He looked older than the last time Simon had seen him. It seemed even the Mage could get gray hairs from stress. Maybe Simon could lessen the burden a bit. The Mage should not have to do everything at once. 

“I want you on the case. Anything you find must be reported to me. The third victim has been found just an hour ago,” the Mage said.

“Have the police agreed?” Simon asked as he stared at the picture. The old lady was staring back at him with dead eyes. She reminded him of Ebb, and he could not stop the sting of pain that arose.

“The police are informed and agreed to the cooperation,” the Mage answered. “You're a specialist brought in for the case.”

“Where is the crime scene?” Simon asked as he closed the folder.

“An alleyway near the public library.”

Simon rose from his seat and made his way towards the door.

“Simon? Do not let the Normals catch wind of this. We do not want to accidentally expose ourselves before the time is right. They are not ready yet.” These were his parting words as the door fell shut behind Simon.

There had been one time where Simon accidentally ran through the part of the city Normals resided in with his sword drawn. The blood on the sword did not help. Without Penny’s quick conjuring of a camera, like something out of a big-budget film, he would have most likely been reported to the police. The Mage liked to remind him of that with every new mission he handed him, even though the Mage himself was actively trying to integrate the Normal and magical community into one. He wanted the magical community to come out of hiding. Yet, in his own words, this could not be rushed. The Old Families were actively opposing such an idea. They kept bringing up the witch trials and similar objections. At the head of the opposition was Malcolm Grimm. 

It was no wonder the Mage was tired. He had to fight at many fronts at once. If catching the murderer made it a bit easier for the man who Simon all but called his father figure, then he would try his best. Simon sent a smile towards the secretary and quickly left the building.

As soon as he stepped out, he was able to breathe easier. He no longer felt like the world was pressing down on his shoulders. The expectations were like a burden that pressed down on him. He did not like to think about it. Simon walked around the corner to where he parked his bike.

The traffic was surprisingly light at this time of day. Simon reached the library in under ten minutes. A large number of police cars were gathered in the area. Officers in uniform mingled. He could see the tape blocking civilians from entering the crime scene. Simon parked his bike and tried to get his hair in some sort of order. He did not want to repeat the first bad impression the police had gotten of him. When he had been ordered by the Mage to help previously, he had tripped and nearly fallen on the evidence. The inspector in charge had glared at him for the rest of the investigation.

Simon managed to enter the crime scene after he had shown his ID. With by now practiced ease, he slipped on a pair of gloves and put a plastic cover over his shoes. If he compromised the crime scene in any way the police would not be happy. He could already feel their suspicious gazes follow his every move.

The victim lay beneath the fire escape. The rainwater had not touched the corpse. This time it was not an elder;y lady, but what looked like a young woman. She did not look much older than Simon. Twenty-nine at the oldest. She was wearing clothes that looked too fancy for a simple library visit. Her eyes were closed, and were it not for bloody the bite marks at her neck, she would have looked as if she was merely asleep. One of her shoes was missing. The smell of sulfur was faintly hanging in the air. Demonic energy reeked of sulfur and ash. Simon was not sure that the one committing these murders was a vampire. Something seemed off about this.

“Has the victim been identified yet?” Simon asked the police officer next to him.

“Yes, her name is Emilia Roberts. She was 25 and a student at the local university. She has no record and her family has been notified. According to them, she was last seen out with her friends last night,” the officer said.

Simon tilted his head. Underneath the victim’s body he could see something. Gently, Simon leaned down and slowly lifted her up. In the gravel beneath her, the word ‘sorry’ was written in an unsteady hand. The officer called for someone to take a picture of the evidence. Simon frowned. Their killer seemed to be conscious of their actions, yet killed anyways. There were no signs of a struggle, as if the woman had just bared her neck without any resistance. Simon pulled out a small notebook and started to write everything down. He did not want to forget anything. On a good day, he could already forget his keys and the grocery list.

“Did she have a handbag of some kind?” Simon asked as he scanned the surroundings. Nothing else in the alley seemed displaced. Everything looked eerily normal.

“Yes, they already packaged the contents,” the officer said. He pointed towards the forensic team. One of them was currently pulling out the missing shoe from beneath the dumpster. Simon asked for permission before inspecting the contents of the bag. Between two opened packages of tissues, a small black card lay. It was a membership card of some sort. The words ‘Pitch Black’ were written in elegant font on the front. The letters shone silver against the black of the card.

Pitch Black was a club. It was not just any club, because only someone with a membership card was allowed entrance. To get one of those was very difficult. The club belonged to Fiona Pitch, one scary-ass witch. She was a member of one of the oldest magical families, the Pitch family. Also, sister of Malcolm Grimm’s deceased wife.

A snarl and piercing grey eyes came to Simon’s mind. Baz Pitch had been his roommate during school and his personal nemesis. Magic was as easy as breathing to Baz. Yet he only had a fraction of the power that Simon had, even though Simon could not tap into it. It felt like each time he tried to use it there was a large wall preventing him from even touching a wisp of it. A large amount of power that was absolutely useless to him. There had been a rumor going around that Baz was slowly losing his magic. Simon did not know if that was true or not, but he did know that Baz Pitch was the embodiment of a vampire. The late-night walks down in the school’s catacombs did not help his case. Simon had tried over and over again to find evidence and expose his vampirism, but to no avail. Baz Pitch was by far too clever to be caught.

The whole Pitch family could be a family of vampires. They all fit the aesthetic perfectly. It did not help that their Victorian manor looked like it could belong to the Addams family.

It seemed that Simon would have to visit the club. Maybe there was something there that could help him along. Maybe this time he could find out the truth. He handed the evidence back to the forensic team and made his way over to the officer who was interviewing the witness. An older lady with a tiny dog in her arms seemed to be on the verge of tears. It seemed that her dog had smelled the poor dead girl and led her right to the dead body. She kept saying it was a miracle that she did not go into cardiac arrest at the sight. Simon silently listened as the woman recounted her discovery. He thanked her with a smile for her cooperation before he took one last look around the crime scene. After a final sweep, he left the crime scene and pulled off his gloves to discard them. He forgot about the plastic around his shoes and had to go back to throw it away. The weird noise with every step he took finally made him realize that he was still wearing them. He ignored the amused look the officers sent him.

Cherry roared to life beneath him as he backed out of the parking space. It did look like a vampire attack, but no vampire would feed in such an atrocious way. They were far too snobbish and dignified to do that. At least, the only example of a potential vamp he knew was. Baz was always snobbish and dignified even as he mocked and sneered at Simon. He would have to visit the club later in the evening and maybe take a nap before then. He had stayed up all night thanks to a pair of rebellious goblin twins and their pissed-off troll neighbour. At least they were no numpties.

The closer he got to their apartment door, the more he smelled the scent of herbs and earth spread out. Penny seemed to be home and was probably using their kitchen stove to brew another potion. He unlocked the door and was greeted by a cloud of purple smoke. It spread out into the hallway where it slowly disappeared.

“Si, can you hand me the toad slime?” Penny asked from where she was brewing her potion. 

Her wild curly hair was tied back in a ponytail. Some curls had escaped and were framing her face. Sweat glistened on her brow. She was wearing a pair of thick safety goggles and dragonhide gloves. Whatever she was stirring inside the pot was bubbling dangerously. It was an eerie bright green colour and when Penny pulled the spoon out, the metal had been eaten away. Warily, Simon stepped closer. He handed her the glass of slime with a cautious look.

“What are you making?” Simon asked as he took a few steps back to make the distance between himself and the blubbering mess a lot bigger. One of the bubbles burst with a loud sizzling noise.

“I found an old recipe in the corner of the library. It’s from around 1847, and it did not say what it was. So I had to figure it out,” Penny said as she pointed to an old book that lay on the counter.

“You managed to find all the ingredients?” Simon asked, watching with some concern as the bubbles got larger.

“Of course. Though some of them are no longer legal, and I had to find an alternative with a similar attribute and effect,” Penny said as she unscrewed an unlabeled bottle and dumped all of the contents into the pot.

“Are you sure that it's safe?”

“Of course, none of the contents are explosive,” Penny said with a wave of her hand.

“There has been a murder. Or a series of murders rather,” Simon said. He often joked that he was brawn and Penny the brain. There was never a case that he had not discussed with Penny.

“Oh? How many victims?” Penny asked as she stirred the potion counterclockwise.

“Three. There is no pattern. One is an old lady, the other an older man, and a younger uni student,” Simon said as he pulled the notebook out of his pocket.

“Do they have anything in common?” Penny asked as she tapped the side of the pot with her ladle. 

“Nothing other than being found in an alley and that they were all killed at night.” Simon ran a hand through his hair making his wild curls even wilder. 

“So they might be an opportunistic killer?” Penny asked as she opened another glass vial and added its contents.

“Seems so. The victims were drained of their blood and had bite marks all over their throats. The Mage suspected that a vampire potentially killed them, but it seems off,” Simon said as he frowned down onto his notes.

“What makes you say that?” Penny fiddled with the dial of the stove.

“It was too sloppy. Like the murderer did not know how to drink,” Simon concluded as he watched Penny put a lid on the pot. She pulled her gloves off and pushed the goggles off.

“You sound like you already have a suspicion,” Penny said as she untied her hair. Her dark curls spilled around her face. She pushed her glasses up her nose.

“There was the faintest smell of sulfur in the air,” Simon said.

“Oh? A demon?” Penny said as she raised her eyebrows. “Please try to keep your injuries minimal. I do not want to have to put your inner organs back together again.” 

“That was one time,” Simon said with a huff.

“One time is one time too many.” Penny said with a smile.

“I doubt that a demon will kill me. I am more worried that the concoctions you brew are what will ultimately kill us both,” Simon muttered under his breath. Penny pretended as if she didn’t hear him.

“Has there been a witness? Or any other kind of evidence?” she asked as she took a seat at the kitchen island.

“The only reports are from the people finding the dead bodies. There has been no interview of family and friends just yet.” Simon took a breath before continuing, “And I found a card for the Pitch Black Club.”

“Oh no. You are not going to start stalking Baz again,” Penny said as she raised her voice in clear exasperation.

“That was not stalking,” Simon whined.

“You followed the poor boy everywhere. It was a miracle that you did not try to watch him taking a piss. That's what the definition of stalking is, Si,” Penny said.

“He was plotting,” Simon grumbled.

“Nope, I will not sit through this again. I will re-implement the rules: You are not allowed to talk about Baz for longer than five minutes once a week,” Penny said with a stern look in his direction.

“Penny,” Simon protested.

“Nope, I will not sit through this childish animosity again.” Penny crossed her arms.

“But what if it is in relation to the case,” Simon said. 

“Twenty words or less,” Penny said with a glare. Defeated, Simon could only concede. He still did not know why Penny was so aggravated by it. He didn’t talk that much about Baz during his school days. Penny’s expression showed just how little she believed that. Had she let him, Simon would have spent hours talking about Baz, his greatest enemy and nemesis. 

“Are you going to check out the club?” Penny asked with a frown as she glanced up and down.

“After a nap, yeah,” Simon said as he stifled a yawn.

“Are you going to change before you leave?” Penny asked as she eyed the dusty and dirty trackies he was wearing.

“No?” Simon asked with a confused expression. He tilted his head and Penny was once again starkly reminded of a confused puppy.

“Pitch Black is an exclusive club, they will not allow you entrance if you’re dressed like this,” Penny said with a frown.

“What’s wrong with my clothes?” Simon looked down at himself. He would concede that his trackies had seen better days, but the shirt was one of the few holeless ones he owned.

“You are going to stick out like a sore thumb,” Penny said as she got up and went into her room. She returned with a bunch of clothes in her arms.

“My brother left some here last time he came for a visit,” Penny said as she pulled out a pair of clothes she found presentable. Simon watched as she transformed the clothes to fit him and adjusted some of the colours. The creme turned into a dark blue.

“Wear these and your leather jacket,” Penny said as she pushed the clothes into his arms. 

Simon knew better than to protest. At least Penny was not as picky as Agatha who was always on-trend. Might be because faes are always fashionable or simply because she was Agatha. He missed her. Agatha and Penny had been constants in Simon’s life since their school days. Same with Baz. Once school was over and Simon and Agatha broke up, that constant shifted. Agatha was now studying in America. They texted each other regularly, but it was not the same. She had always helped him with his clothes even if it was torture. He didn’t miss being in a relationship with her now that he reflected upon it. They had been so awkward and unsure. He missed her company. The silent support Agatha had always been. He missed the easy days of their school life. The friendship and also the animosity with Baz, whom he had not seen since. It was weird to go from seeing him every day to not seeing him at all. He had hated having Baz as his roommate, but only after their paths split did he realize that Baz was as much a constant as his friends. He might get to see Baz soon. Maybe he had stopped being such a prick. Simon snorted. That would take a miracle. 

“I’m gonna take a nap now,” Simon said as he nodded in the direction of his room. Penny shooed him away and turned back towards her potion still blubbering on the stove. Simon dumped the clothes on the armchair in his room. His room was a mess. Clothes were laying on the floor. More often than not, they never made it into the hamper. Papers with notes and candy wrappers littered every available surface. He fell into bed and closed his eyes with a blissful sigh.

His dreams were filled with grey eyes, blood and the scent of bergamot. By the time he woke up, the sun had gone down. It was a starless night and the full moon had risen. Damn, he had overslept. He hastily grabbed the clothes that Penny had given him. In the process, he tripped over his pair of sneakers and nearly hit his head on the door frame. He stumbled his way into the living room. Their flat seemed strangely empty. He wracked his brain if Penny had said anything about any plans to him. Vaguely, he could remember that she said something about dinner plans with Staph, Step, Shep, Sheep, Shepherd, Shepard?

Simon pulled his leather jacket off the rack and grabbed Cherry’s keys. As he hastened down the stairs, he took two steps at a time. Outside, everything was wet from the downfall. The streetlights were reflected in the puddles that lined the street. Water sprayed everywhere as he stepped into one of the puddles. He swung his leg over Cherry and smiled as her motor roared to life. She purred beneath his hands. With a squeak of her tires, he drove out onto the road.

Pitch Black was on the other side of the city. As Simon parked his bike at the curb, he could already hear the beat of the music. He could hear the loud voices of people laughing and talking. He walked towards the entrance of the club. It was an old warehouse that had been repainted. The name Pitch Black was hanging above the door in neon lights. A red carpet was rolled out on the ground. It had long become soggy from the rainwater and dirtied by the heels and boots that trampled all over it. Two bouncers stood on either side of the door. Tall and intimidating. The line of people was far longer than Simon had been expecting. Before he got in line, he observed them for a moment.

The realization that he would not be allowed entrance came quickly. For one, he had no club membership, nor did he have a club member that could vouch for him. And even if he were to say that he was here to investigate a murder in the name of the Mage, Fiona Pitch would not let him enter. She hated the Mage with a burning passion. A sentiment that Baz seemed to share to some degree. Simon would have to get into the club via a different entrance.

Beside the building, a small alleyway led to the back. As the bouncers were busy trying to calm down a clearly drunk patron,Simon took his chance. With no one watching him, he walked into the alleyway. In the distance, he could vaguely make out the flickering exit light. The words ‘staff only’ were printed in large letters beneath the light. Simon made sure that there was really no one around before he tried to open the door. It was locked.

He thanked the stars that he had learned how to pick a lock at some point. He turned on the light of his mobile and held it in the right position with his mouth as he pulled out a small hairpin from his wallet. After a few moments of fiddling with the lock, the door sprung open. It was weird that there were no security cameras in place. It was a worrying lapse in judgment. Anybody with just a bit of skill in lockpicking was able to unlock this door.

He closed the door behind him and locked it again. He seemed to be in a hallway. One of the doors he passed had the words ‘staff room’ written on it. The closer he got, the louder the music became, till his heart beat to the rhythm of the beat.

As he stepped into the inside of the club, he saw bodies moving on the dance floor. Dark red drapes lined the walls, and for a moment Simon had the wild thought that he ended up in a sex club. The pole that was placed on one of the round stages did not help his impression. The thought alone caused heat to rise to his cheeks. He was behind the dance floor, the bar was on the other side. The dance floor was packed and people swayed to the music. Some though, were not simply dancing. They were grinding into each other. It looked more like sexual intercourse than dancing. With a flush, Simon looked away, trying to keep his line of sight above the cleavage. Wherever he looked, hips swayed to the music and hair whipped from side to side. Laughter rang out as the beat dropped. People were clapping as a clearly drunk guy climbed up towards the pole. He started to wildly swing around it. His friends cheering and laughing. Simon could just see the bar on the other side of the dance floor. He would have to brave it in order to reach the other side.

A deep breath later and Simon was regretting his life choices as another hand strayed towards his ass. He squeezed through the two dancing ladies. They pouted as their potential dance partner left them. People were way too liberal with their touch, this was already the fourth time someone had squeezed his ass. At least this time it was not another weird guy. Simon swore that he would never ever set foot onto another dance floor in this lifetime. A part of him wanted to thank god and all deities he knew as he finally stumbled out of the mass of people. With a shake of his head, he tried to shake off the feeling of hands and bodies pressed together way too close. A sardine can would have more room than this dance floor.

He shook off the feeling of discomfort and let his gaze move along the rows of high tables. As his eyes traveled over the bar, he froze, and for a moment he thought that even his heart ceased to beat. He was greeted with a sight he had never expected. 

  


Baz Pitch was standing behind the bar. Baz Pitch was a bartender. It felt like Simon’s brain had encountered an impossibility and just shut down. With almost robotic steps, he made his way over to a table hidden in the farthest corner. His eyes would not leave Baz. Baz's hair was longer, but it was loose. With fascination, Simon watched as his hair gently swayed with each movement. His eyes were the same piercing grey, and yet he was smiling. He laughed. Not the mocking laugh that Simon remembered from school, but a genuine one. Nimble fingers moved with practiced ease as they mixed a cocktail. Baz smiled at another patron. Musician's hands just like during their school days. Simon wondered if Baz still played the violin.

A different patron said something and Baz threw his head back and laughed. It exposed his bare throat which a tight black choker enveloped. The buttons of his white shirt were open and Simon could just see the hint of a collar bone. His brain froze again at the sight of the dark jeans that clung to Baz's legs. He was wearing jeans. Baz never wore jeans. It was too much. Too many new discoveries at once. Simon was grateful when his line of sight was momentarily interrupted by the frame of a large man. He needed a moment to sort himself. Maybe more than a moment. It was amusing, that the thing that caused him the most trouble was not that Baz was working as a bartender, but that he was wearing jeans.

It took him a moment, but Simon thought that he had finally calmed down. He no longer had the urge to run up and down and shout “jeans!!!!”. Or even worse, run-up to the bar and ask Baz why the hell he was wearing jeans. Simon watched as Baz skillfully mixed all kinds of drinks. As he brushed the hair behind his ears, Simon saw a glint of metal. Baz had gotten his ears pierced. None of what he saw fit into the picture he had of Baz. He was from a rich family and always prim and proper. His hair had always been slicked back, not a hair out of place. Piercings and such seemed like a large no-go. It felt like he had changed so much in the years Simon had not seen him. Yet Simon felt like he was still the same. Static, as everything around him evolved.

The arrival of a staff person asking him for his drinking order interrupted Simon’s strangely melancholic thoughts. He feared that he looked at the poor lady like a deer in the headlights. He managed to sputter something about a beer and sighed as soon as she left. He was a disaster.

He nursed his beer and continued to watch Baz. He was talking to the patrons with ease, and a lot of people regardless of gender tried to flirt with him. Baz declined all of them. Simon had to admit that he was beautiful. That he had always been a very good looking dude. The pint of beer lasted him all night since Simon forgot that he even had it most of the time. His eyes remained fixed on Baz.

At some point, Simon remembered the reason he had come here. He needed to figure out if anything suspicious was going on in the club. His eyes trailed over the people that danced the night away. The tables were packed and everyone was laughing and seemingly having a good time. Simon watched as a bloke got refused over and over again by the ladies. Until he sulkily left to lurk at the edge of the dancefloor. Another lady was so drunk, one of the bouncers was escorting her outside with her friends. People were giggling with alcoholic bliss left and right. Simon did not want to have their hangovers.

The rejected dude moved from the dance floor towards the bar. He tried to chat up one of the ladies that was doing her best to flirt with Baz. He ordered her another drink. As he handed it to her, it looked almost as if he had slipped something into her drink. Simon immediately took a step forward. But he didn’t need to worry, Baz was faster than him. His elegant musical hands wrapped around the dude's forearm. It stopped him in the middle of the motion of handing over the drink. Baz’s eyes were cold and flinty. A sneer was marring his lips. For one moment, Simon was back in their school days as Baz sneered at him from the other side of the classroom. The man tried to struggle out of his grip. Baz ignored it and did not loosen his grip for even a moment. He turned towards the startled girl and said something to her. She nodded and quickly made her way over towards the entrance. Probably informing one of the bouncers. The man was cursing and accusing Baz, who remained unflinching in the heap of verbal abuse. He leaned forward and whispered something into the man’s ear. He ceased struggling immediately. When the bouncers came to escort him out, he looked as if he was in a trance. Completely compliant with everything the bouncer said or did. So very unlike he had been before. Simon narrowed his eyes as he watched Baz wash his hands with a look of disgust. Baz had done something. Some kind of compulsion.

The victims showed no signs of struggling as if they had been entranced. Baz wouldn’t. He was no murderer. It was beneath him. Simon still kept the nagging suspicion in mind. If he had seen this during their younger years, he would have already confronted Baz. They would have gotten into an argument. A broken nose and a fall from a set of stairs were enough fallouts of their fights. With the years, he had learned that not everything could be solved with a fistfight.

He only left the club when Baz’s shift ended and another bartender appeared. Simon watched as the man tried to flirt with Baz. Leaning into his space with a smirk pulling at his lips. Baz laughed and brushed him off before walking towards the dance floor. When he crossed it, people made way for him. There was no inappropriate touching. Simon was almost jealous. He silently watched as Baz disappeared behind the door in the back which led to the staffroom.

Simon took the last sip of his now lukewarm beer and also left the club. He walked out with the rest of the partygoers who decided to call it a night. The moon was reflected in the street puddles. Neon lights gave the surroundings the faintest glow. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I forgot myself ^^'  
> You can find me on [ Twitter ](https://twitter.com/Nightrayspath) and [ Tumblr ](http://nightrayspaths.tumblr.com/) ❤️


	2. Demon at Heart

Baz woke up the next morning feeling less hungry than usual. He was always hungry no matter how much he ate. The constant hunger that gnawed at his bones was almost like a constant background noise. It was a bit like tinnitus. At some point, one learned to live with it. Same as the constant feeling of coldness. No matter how many clothes he wore he still felt cold. The coldness had made its home in his bones. He pulled the blanket tighter around himself. He wanted to return to his dream. In his dreams, he was being held in the arms of a young man with golden curls and with constellations on his skin. Last night as he was bustling behind the bar, he kept catching a whiff of Simon Snow’s scent. It reminded him of fire. It was all-consuming and, as if years had not passed, his feelings flared up again. It was bittersweet. It hurt. The dream was nothing more than a wonderful fantasy. A fantasy that would never become reality.

The second ringing of his alarm finally caused Baz to sit up. His hair was a mess, but since there were no lectures today he did not care. He slipped his freezing feet into a pair of fuzzy bat slippers. They had been a present from his sister Mordelia. He could hear Fiona humming in the kitchen. The melody reminded him starkly of the death metal song his aunt kept torturing his ears with. With a sigh, he slowly made his way towards it. The smell of coffee hung in the air. There was no good morning without good coffee. A cup was already standing ready for him, its contents steaming. Black coffee, as black as his soul. He nearly burnt his tongue as he took a sip.

“Slept well, boyo?” Fiona asked as she drank hers like one might drink a shot of whiskey. Baz grunted in answer. He was not a morning person. Fiona took his reply as a positive answer. Her phone started ringing and Baz excused himself back to his room, the hot coffee clutched between his cold fingers.

By the time he rejoined Fiona in the living room, he was dressed immaculately. There was not a crease in sight.

“How’s the hunger?” Fiona asked as she took a sip of her second cup of coffee.

“Fine,” Baz said as he sat down on the sleek black sofa.

“Ambient feeding is no longer keeping you satisfied,” Fiona said with a frown. She noted the paleness and tiredness clearly displayed on Baz's features.

“I am not changing my eating habits,” Baz said with a calm gaze.

“You are a sex demon living without sex.” Fiona let out a sound of mirthless amusement.

“Being an incubus is not controlling my life.” Baz’s answer let some of the stubbornness shine through. In those moments of bullheadedness, he reminded Fiona starkly of her sister. Once Natasha had gotten an idea in her head, come hell or high water she would not be stopped.

“No, it is not, but are you living your life? You're constantly hungry,” Fiona said. As much as she wanted to deny it, she worried for her nephew. She did not want to find him nearly catatonic again. Just because of his stubborn refusal to eat like a normal incubus. The boy had already given her a headache when he refused to drink blood when he had not yet been of age. Incubi fed off of energy. Before they became of age, life energy from blood could fill their hunger, like vampires. As soon as they came of age, blood no longer satisfied their hunger. They needed sexual energy. Intercourse was the best way to get it, yet her stubborn nephew refused to have sex with anyone. Not even a handjob or a blowjob. He only stifled his hunger by ambient feeding. He ate the energy of people overflowing with sexual energy. The hornier they were the better. The club was filled with it at night and this was one of the reasons Fiona had even opened the club. Here she was trying to take care of her sister’s son and the stubborn boy refused any help. If Natasha knew, she would kick both of them.

“Better than sex,” Baz said with a sneer and Fiona wanted to facepalm. At one point she had thought her nephew was asexual. An asexual incubus. But no, her nephew was just a romantic. A hopeless romantic.

“Still waiting for the one, boyo?” Fiona asked with a smirk.

“Shut up,” Baz retorted and Fiona could just see the tip of his ears flush.

“Aww, such a romantic!” Fiona teased. Baz glared at her before getting up.

“I have to leave for class,” Baz said as he grabbed his bag and stormed out of the apartment.

“I thought you didn’t have classes today?” Fiona called after him with a laugh. Baz ignored her with a decisive bang of the front door. Now that he was standing outside the door, Baz realized that he had left his phone inside. Also, he didn’t have a university class today. With a sigh, he decided to take a walk.

He knew that Fiona meant well, but he just couldn’t do it. The thought alone of doing any kind of sexual acts with strangers made him feel sick. It made his skin itch to even think about strangers touching him in any way. Sex for him was something that should only be shared with a person he loved. Too bad that the only person he loved was the one that hated him. His life was cursed. First, he had thought he was a vampire. The same kind of beings that killed his mother. When he turned nineteen, he realized that he was something completely different. An incubus, a bloody demon. The magic he had been born with slowly disappeared. Another connection to his mother lost. The demonic energy had eaten it up till there was nothing left. He grew horns, claws and, to his horror, a tail. He had tried to saw the horns off, but they only grew back. Even if the tail was surgically removed, it would regrow the next day. Fiona used to spell them invisible till Baz learned to glamour them himself. He hated it. He hated being a demon.

The thought of ending it all had crossed his mind so many times. The thought of disregarding his mother's last act stopped him. He couldn't hurt his family so. They kept him grounded in the here and now. He had thought that his father would have had the most issues with it. Surprisingly, other than a few awkward conversations, their relationship remained the same. When he came out as gay, his father remained unfazed. After the whole incubus thing, being gay seemed like such a small issue. His little siblings had no clue what he was and he wished that it remained so.

It started to rain again as he stepped foot into the park. The weather had been a pain in the ass for the last few weeks. With a sigh, Baz sought shelter beneath the nearest tree and hoped that the downpour would stop soon. The sudden whiff of sexual energy soaking into him startled him. A moan resounded from behind the tree he was leaning on.

“Nope,” Baz cursed as he walked away. He would not deal with this. He was not a voyeur. His body felt hot and heat traveled along his spine. He could feel arousal pool in his gut. He could deal with needing sexual energy to survive. What he could not deal with was his body's immediate reaction to sexual energy. He hated it. It felt like he had no control over his own body. With a frustrated sigh, he ran a hand through his hair.

Better to endure Fiona’s teasing than to have to encounter any more sexual activity. He spent the rest of the day holed up in his room working on his term paper. By the time evening rolled around, his eyes were hurting. With a sigh, he pushed himself away from his desk. Tonight he had no shift at the bar, so he curled up in his bed, pulling the covers around himself as tightly as possible. The window was shut. As he lay between waking and sleeping, he remembered the countless arguments he and Simon had fought over the window so many times. Simon was always running hot whereas Baz was always freezing. His dreams were filled with a golden constellation of starlight painted across warm skin. His heart was aching when he awoke. Even his subconscious seemed to like torturing him. Hunger slithered through his veins. As much as he hated to admit it, his aunt was right. Ambient feeding was slowly losing its effectiveness. Usually, he was able to live off of feeding twice a week, now it only lasted one day before the hunger started to hurt. If he died of hunger, then let it be so. His was nothing more than a wretched existence.

Before that, he would love to see Simon one more time. He wondered if Simon still looked the same or if he had changed. Baz hoped that the golden curls he longed to run his fingers through had not been shaved off. Was Simon still slouching and always wearing the same pair of ratty sneakers?

The smell of coffee drifted through the slit beneath his door. With a sigh, he got out of bed and slowly made his way into the bathroom. He had classes in two hours, and if he wanted to take his usual shower, he needed to take it now. When he stepped out of the shower, the bathroom was filled with fog. The mirror was a foggy mess.

His coffee was just the right temperature as he sipped it. Fiona was no longer awake. She was lying on the couch snoring. She was still wearing her combat boots that left mud on their pristine couch. Baz grabbed his bag and left towards the university. He had classes all day today and a shift at the club afterward.

During the lesson, Baz had the urge to push his desk mate down the stairs. How someone could have so much pent up frustration was unimaginable to Baz. The room reeked of sex and it made Baz’s body haywire. As soon as the lessons were over, Baz rushed towards the bathroom. He looked at himself in the mirror. His cheeks were flushed red and his pupils wide. With shaking hands, he gripped the sink. He took deep breaths. After a few moments, his body’s reaction subsided. He calmly left the loo.

When he was not as hungry as he was now, the closeness of sexual desires usually didn’t faze him nearly as much. He needed to feed. Luckily his shift was tonight. With a sigh, he ran his fingers through his hair. When he returned to the classroom, he changed his seat to be as far away as possible from his desk mate. He did not need this unresolved sexual tension. It was messing with him too much.

He managed to get through the rest of the lessons without further incident, for which he was very thankful. The only urge he felt was to murder his idiotic coursemates. Even Snow’s disastrous attempts at magic were better than the stupidity displayed by his university peers. Baz sneered at the poor bumbling idiot that was trying to explain his opinion. Baz raised his hand and started to methodically rip his statements apart. He left the class feeling quite satisfied. The glares of the others were nothing. After having Snow’s sword at his throat, this was child’s play.

He finished his coursework in the library before going to the club for work. The sun had already gone down and streetlight illuminated his path. As he walked, his mind drifted. Leaves rustled and it started to rain again. A gentle pitter-patter. Baz pulled out his black umbrella and continued on his way. He knew the path even with his eyes closed. As he stepped around the corner into a less busy street, a shudder crawled down his spine. It felt like someone was following him. Baz turned around, but there was no one behind him. The silent shadows gave him no answer. It felt like someone was watching him. Baz tightened his grip on the umbrella, but nothing happened.

The feeling never went away, though. With every step he took, he heard the echo of another pair of feet moving. Yet every time he turned around there was no one there. It made the hairs on his neck rise. It felt like he was being regarded as prey. He did not like it. He was one of the hunters of the night. For him to be prey was ridiculous.

He reached the backdoor of the club without ever finding his silent observer. As he unlocked the door and stepped inside, he realized that someone had tampered with the lock again. One of these days he would manage to convince Fiona to install a security camera. Fiona was of the opinion that it was much more fun if people could break into the club. Baz disagreed with that opinion. At least he managed to get her to install cameras behind the bar, at the entrance and the office. He stepped into the staff room and changed into a fresh set of clothes.

As soon as the doors opened, people flooded into the club. Youngsters that were barely adults rushed towards the dance floor. The older ones made a beeline towards the bar. Soon his bar became surrounded by thirsty patrons. He kept mixing cocktails for the ladies, poured lagers for the guys, and handed out red wine. Shots were poured and drunk faster than he could hand them out. Soon Baz was too busy to think, and as the evening proceeded, more and more people flocked from the bar to the dancefloor. Around him, sexual arousal ebbed and rose like the ocean. One moment the air was filled with so much that it was almost sizzling, the next moment there was only a wisp remaining. It was enough for Baz to eat. Soon the headache and the tiredness he had been carrying around all day disappeared. The persistent hunger quietened, but it was still there like an itch one could never scratch. Baz watched in amusement as people attempted to dance on the pole. Most of the drunkards failed and landed on their butts.

A younger lady kept eyeing him up and down like he was a piece of meat. She leaned towards him, pushing her cleavage out. He politely rejected her flirtation. Baz had no interest in women. She stayed seated at the bar and watched the drunks’ antics with amusement. As long as they were not causing a disturbance, Baz would let them be. If they started to get too noisy, a simple suggestion and a small push would be all he needed to calm them down. Sometimes his pheromones could be handy and not just a hindrance. 

He was cleaning a wine glass when he felt like someone was watching him. Baz immediately looked up and scanned up and down the crowd in the club. The strobe lights that started to flicker with the beat made it difficult. He froze at the sight of blue eyes watching him. It was a blue he knew. Only one person had eyes this blue.

The wine glass slipped from his fingers and broke into a thousand pieces on the floor. Simon Snow was sitting in the corner. The eyes Baz remembered so well were watching him. Baz turned his head away, trying to keep his heartbeat under control. He grabbed a broom and sunk to the floor to clean up the shards of glass. He needed a moment to breathe. Simon Snow was here. Why was he here? It made no sense, it was not Simon’s kind of scene, or maybe he had changed in the years that Baz had not seen him. Baz shook his head and started to clean up the mess his surprise had created. As he dumped the shards in the trash, he took a peek, and indeed Simon was still watching him. Like back during their school year when Simon would downright stalk him. It was a familiar feeling to feel that burning gaze focused on him. It was almost a comfort and brought none of the vile feelings that the gaze outside had brought.

Simon’s hair had grown out, but was shaved down at the sides. He still had his lovely curls, and Baz itched to run his fingers through them. Simon had gained weight, but most of that seemed to be attributed to muscle mass. Runes tattooed in black ink peeked out from his rolled-up sleeves. Baz wanted to trail his finger over them. Simon Snow was still as much of a temptation as he had been during their school years. The years had not changed Baz’s hopeless attraction to this disaster of a human being. Pain made his heart throb, and it seemed as even without seeing him, his feelings remained the same. Baz was still in love with him.

  


Pathetic. It was truly pathetic. Already during their school years, he had tried everything to get over Simon. When that didn’t work, he tried everything to get even a shred of attention. It didn’t matter that it ended in a fistfight or an argument. At that moment, those blue eyes were solely focused on him. Those were the best and the worst moments. They made his heart soar, because the boy he adored was looking at him. Yet it broke his heart into a million pieces, because the boy he loved hated him. Baz bit his lip and turned his gaze away from Simon.

Yet he could not help himself as he kept stealing glances. He needed to commit Simon to his memory. Who knew when he would see him next. Covert glances used to be a specialty of his and apparently he still had it. Or Simon was still just as oblivious as ever. You could hit him with a brick in the face and he would be confused as to what hit him.

As much as Baz tried to deny it, the constant gaze of Simon on him caused his body to heat up. Simon's gaze felt like a caress. The combination of sexual arousal in the air and Simon’s constant gaze caused his body to respond in kind. He ignored the arousal that pooled in his gut and kept a calm facade as his insides trembled. He knew that he must have looked flushed. He prayed that his hands would not start shaking.

The patron in front of him was watching him with half-lidded eyes. Lust clouded his mind and he reached a hand out as if to grab Baz. Baz cursed internally. He was leaking pheromones all over the place. All of the patrons surrounding his bar looked as if they were drunk off them. Simon had made him lose the tight reign he had on his pheromones. 

“No,” Baz said in a velvety soft voice. The man looked at him with hazy eyes.

“You’ve had enough,” Baz said as the suggestion in his words slowly became a command.

“Go home and rest,” Baz purred. A shudder travelled through the man as he slowly rose and made his unsteady way towards the door. Baz let out a sigh. He looked up and Simon was still looking at him. He bit his lip as his own body shivered beneath that gaze. 

The rest of the night was the sweetest kind of torture. Simon’s constant presence caused Baz’s body to send all kinds of signals. He lost control of his pheromones once and a couple almost started having sex right on top of his bar counter. He managed to stop them, but it did not alleviate the itch that was consuming his body. As soon as his shift change arrived, he speed-walked out of there and hoped that no one was looking at his crotch. Simon’s gaze followed him and Baz shuddered. As soon as he slammed the door of the staff room behind him, he sunk down to the ground and took shuddering breaths. All it would require was one touch and he would come in his pants.

He forced himself to take a deep breath and get undressed. Even the touch of his clothes felt like too much. He gritted his teeth and bore it. He would not succumb and touch himself at his workplace. Normally he would take the back door, but he wanted to catch just one last glimpse of Simon, so he walked back inside the main room. As soon as he stepped through the door, he could feel Simon’s gaze on him again. He walked through the mass of dancing people and past the bar all the while Simon’s gaze moved along his body. As he walked towards the main entrance that gaze slowly traced down his back. Baz took a peek over his shoulder and indeed, Simon Snow was staring at his ass. Crowley, what a time to be alive. Simon Snow was staring at his ass. Baz resisted the urge to move towards Simon. He feared that it would end in another argument. Like a brand, the gaze seared into his skin. As soon as Baz stepped outside, he took a huge gulp of fresh air. His body was shaking and a grin was threatening to split his face. It was ridiculous that he was this pleased just from Simon staring at his ass. This was a new kind of pathetic even for him, but at the moment with arousal coursing through his veins, he did not care. This time there was nothing strange during his walk home. He unlocked the door to the flat and locked it behind him.

He needed a shower and he needed to get off. The tips of his fingers smelled like alcohol, and he wrinkled his nose in disgust at the smell. He flicked on the lights in the bathroom and started to undress. His clothes still chafed against his skin. It felt freeing to finally get out of them. He put them in the hamper, and as soon as the shower was hot enough, he jumped underneath the spray. The water felt heavenly on his skin. Steam rose. Baz started to lather his hair and then washed his body. As he moved lower, he slowly started to touch his cock. It was standing at attention between his legs. The first touch alone made his legs shake.

A moan broke free from his lips, and he made no attempt to stifle the sound. He was all alone in the flat till the sun rose. His fingers played with the head of his dick as his other hand slowly caressed up his body till it reached his nipples. He lightly scratched them with his fingernails. A shiver rolled down his spine.

He could still feel Simon’s eyes on his body, how they watched him. It almost seemed as if Simon was standing outside his shower and still watching him.

It made everything more potent. He closed his eyes and imagined Simon standing in front of him. He was completely dressed and watching him in silence. Baz had to lean against the cool tiles or else he feared that his legs would buckle beneath him. The coldness felt so good against his hot skin.

He enclosed his hand around his prick and started to move it up and down. The pressure was delicious and the hot water made it all the better.

The thought of Simon’s eyes roaming across his naked wet skin made fire lick at his insides. His hand sped up, but it was not enough, no matter how much he tightened his hold. No matter how much his pleasure crescendoed, he could not topple over the edge.

A frustrated moan left his lips. He felt like he was burning. He needed to come. He screwed his eyes shut as his teeth sunk into his lips to stop any noise from escaping. With one hand, he reached behind himself. The tip of his finger circled his hole and Baz shuddered at the sensation.

Slowly he pushed the tip of his finger against his hole till the ring of muscles gave way. The tip slipped inside his body. A low groan left Baz’s lips.

“Ah!” He threw his head back at the sensation. It felt so good.

He pushed his finger deeper. He imagined Simon’s fingers gently trailing across his back. A soft whine left his mouth as he panted. His finger grazed against his prostate. He could almost hear Simon’s voice praise him. Calling him a good boy in that voice of his. It was enough, and with a low moan, Baz came as his body was shaking apart.

Come splattered against the tiles and was washed away by the shower spray. His legs were shaking as he gasped for breath. His nipples throbbed. Slowly he pulled the two fingers out of his asshole. It spasmed around the sudden emptiness. The edges of his hole fluttered as if in protest to the loss of the feeling of fullness. Baz managed to right himself, and with a dazed expression he stared blankly ahead. He could still hear the low timbre of Simon’s voice echo in his head. A shiver ran down his spine and his limply hanging dick made another attempt to regain full hardness. Baz ignored it and quickly washed his body before stepping out of the shower.

His whole body felt shivery and sensitive. The towel alone felt wrong against his skin. It was one of the best orgasms he had ever had. He felt kind of floaty, and he imagined Simon’s voice saying good job in his head. A blissful sigh left his lips. Tomorrow morning he would be ashamed, but at the moment he was just content. He fell into his bed and curled up in his blanket. His hair was still damp. Tomorrow morning he would definitely regret not drying it completely.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for the lovely kudos and comments ~ ❤️


	3. Follow the Night

Simon felt the beginning of a headache start to crawl up his skull. The blubbering mess in front of him did not help. The latest murder victim’s boyfriend was absolutely devastated. This was the third package of tissues the poor boy had used up during the interview. Simon had been asking him questions, but none of the answers helped the investigation. The girl had no enemies, nor was there any financial difficulty in the family. What Penny had said about this being an opportunistic killer seemed to be true. The poor girl had been at the wrong place at the wrong time.

Simon left the interview room leaving the rest to the police. The boy had no magical connection whatsoever, the same as the victim. They were purely Normal. Oblivious to what might lurk in the dark.

The interviews of friends and family had been useless. One of the friends was a faun, but she did not notice anything unusual. Nothing even remotely helpful had come out of the interviews. Simon had also inspected all three dead bodies. They all had been drained after being repeatedly bitten in the neck. There were no other injuries on their bodies, no defensive wounds, no nothing. The older lady had been smiling as she died. Her lips forever frozen in a smile. It seemed that it was a painless death, which seemed impossible with the amount of blood they had lost.

The DNA that was found at the scene brought up no matches. It seemed to be mutated and, according to the forensic lab, all wrong. It was a mutation no one had seen before. Most of the systems were completely unable to read the sample. Sadly, Simon had no vampiric DNA to compare it to. He doubted that Baz would lend him some. He was still 90% certain that Baz was a vampire.

By the time Simon had left the precinct, night had fallen and there were still no further clues. Only the smell of sulfur and a scratched out ‘sorry’. No matter how he turned the evidence around, there was not one solid lead. The victim’s friends had said that they left the club together and split paths near the park. The park was fifteen minutes away from the club. One needed twenty minutes from there on foot till one reached the library and the alleyway. The police were currently searching the park for evidence, but so far nothing had been found. After the park came the river, over which an old stone bridge led. On the other side was an old church. If you walked past it, the next street held the library and the alley in which the girl died. It had been only one street away from her safe apartment. There were CCTV cameras installed near the bridge, the park exit, the church, and the library. Police officers were still searching through hours of footage. The friends were unsure of the time they left the club. They had continued to party at a friend’s house till four in the morning. The victim had classes the next day so she had left them early

The alibis of the friends were solid. Their neighbours had banged on the door to issue a noise complaint and could testify for all of the friends. Simon hoped that by tomorrow there would be some evidence found on the tapes of the CCTV.

Simon walked aimlessly, and he came to a stop in front of a familiar club. Subconsciously he had ended up here again. Maybe tonight he would be able to find something suspicious. Last time nothing had happened other than a few drunks making fools out of themself on the pole. The backdoor still had no further security. At some point, he would have to confront the Pitches about this ridiculous safety hazard.

The dance floor was packed again. Simon grimaced at the sight of the closely dancing people. How he hated having to cross this dance floor. People were way too grabby and, for some reason, a lot of them were almost dry humping each other. He did not know why people called whatever they were doing dancing. It looked more like some kind of deranged sex act to him. He flushed and quickly looked away. He fought his way through the crowded dance floor and ended up losing the lowest button of his shirt. With a breath of relief, he left the mass of people behind and took a seat at the now-familiar corner. Immediately, his gaze strayed towards the bartender pouring a glass of red wine.

It was surreal to see Baz in the environment of a club, and yet he seemed strangely at home. Baz was showing a completely different side of himself that Simon had never seen before. Sometimes he wondered whether they might have been friends, if Baz had been less of an ass and he less of a hothead.

Simon had not told Penny about the fact that he was visiting the club at night. She had forbidden him from talking about Baz. That was not the sole reason, though. He himself did not know why he didn't tell Penny. He liked watching Baz mix drinks and chat with customers. He liked knowing this other side of him. Maybe he just didn’t want to share this other side with other people. Which was ridiculous, he was not jealous over Baz. He dismissed the thought. As much as he understood that he didn’t hate Baz, there was no reason to think about it. He had always been good at pushing the things he did not understand aside.

One of the ladies leaned over the counter and tried to tug Baz forward by his clothes. Simon’s fingers turned white as his hand enclosed the edge of the table. Baz laughed and disentangled her hands from his clothes. He smiled at her before creating distance between them. Baz looked past her. For a moment it felt like their gazes met. His grey eyes were as intense as ever. Simon’s throat felt dry. Hurriedly he took a few sips of his beer, and in the process he managed to spill half the contents over his shirt.

“Fuck,” Simon cursed and jumped up. He grabbed a napkin and quickly dried up the mess he had made. His shirt was wet and no matter how many times he tried to dry it with the napkins, it hardly made a difference.

His eyes returned to the bar and he just caught the edge of a smirk. Simon narrowed his eyes. It almost felt like Baz had done it on purpose. But there were no other indicators that Baz had noticed him. Simon ordered another beer since he had managed to spill over half of his.

Loud cheering broke out and Simon turned to look. Some drunks were trying out the pole again and failing miserably. He wondered if the pole had been installed just for people to humiliate themselves. He would not put it past the Pitch family. It would be just the kind of thing they would do to amuse themselves. His gaze returned to the bar where two girls were pestering Baz who let out a sigh and, with a roll of his eyes, seemed to concede to whatever they were asking of him. Baz said something to the other bartender before stepping out from behind the bar. Simon watched him in confusion as he was pulled by the two girls towards the pole. Baz unbuttoned his vest and handed it to one of the girls. Slowly, he started to roll up his sleeves. Surely he was not going to do what Simon thought he was going to do? Right? Baz pole dancing was just ridiculous? Right?

Apparently, it was not too ridiculous. Baz was pole dancing. With a loud crash, Simon dropped his glass. It broke into a thousand pieces as it hit the floor. Beer spilled everywhere. His shoes were soaked in it. Even his socks got wet. Yet he didn’t notice it at all. His gaze was locked onto Baz. The girls were cheering loudly.

Baz’s body moved along the pole with a fluid grace that seemed almost otherworldly. He twisted and turned around the iron pole. His shirt strained against his chest as he bent backward. Simon’s fingers itched to touch. Sweat glistened on Baz's pale skin. With each move, another part of Baz’s perfect body was illuminated. His arms had enough strength to hold his whole body up, perfect biceps being shown as he pulled himself up. His long legs wrapped around the pole when he leaned backward. His legs had always been beautiful. Simon wondered if they still looked as toned from years of football as they once did. Baz’s hair was wild and mussed, and Simon never before felt such a strong urge to run his hands through it and tug.

The worst by far was Baz’s grey eyes. They shone with an intensity that could melt the sun. With each twist, his gaze would land on Simon. He felt like he was being pierced by those eyes. No matter how sensual the body was that wrapped itself around the pole, the eyes remained as sharp as a dagger. They were even harder to look away from than Baz’s body.

  


Simon could see sweat shine beneath Baz’s collarbone, and he had the strange urge to lick it off. Simon forcefully shook his head. He could not think about Baz like this. It was wrong.

Still, he could not take his eyes off of Baz as he danced on the pole. Simon watched as the people around Baz seemed to drool. They looked like they wanted to reach out and touch him, but each time they tried, Baz glided out of the way. Simon clenched his fist. He hated it. He did not know why, but he hated those people at that moment.

Simon needed to leave. He did not know what he would do, if he watched Baz’s hips sway to the music one more time. Yet at the same time, Simon’s feet were rooted to the spot. He could only helplessly watch as Baz twirled around the pole one last time. With a final sultry look, he put his feet back on the ground. Simon could hear cheering and clapping, yet it felt like he was beneath the ocean. A weird hissing and swooshing noise was all he could hear. The beat of the music seemed so far away. He could not tear his eyes away from Baz’s chest as he caught his breath. The white shirt seemed almost translucent beneath the light. Simon looked up to Baz’s face and got caught up in the hooded silver eyes that were watching him. He swallowed. His whole mouth was dry.

Baz was the first one to break the spell. He broke eye contact as he took the vest from one of the girls with a smile before he slowly started to button it up. His fingers seemed to be shaking. As soon as he had finished, he nonchalantly walked back towards the bar. The other bartender whistled and clapped as he returned.

This time Simon did not stay till Baz's shift was finished. Instead, he made a hasty exit. His head was in turmoil, and no matter how hard he tried not to think about it, Baz's ass and hips kept intruding. He forcefully tried to think of anything else, but nothing seemed to be working. He would almost say that Baz had done it on purpose. A new spell to throw him into disarray. A new plot to get to him. Finally, he focused on Penny's presentation about necrophages. The thought of cadaver eating corpses finally managed to put a stop to Baz distracting him.

As soon as he reached his and Penny's flat, he made his way towards his room. Penny arched an eyebrow as he wordlessly passed by her. He let himself fall onto his bed, still in his clothes which stank of beer. He closed his eyes and hoped that sleep would claim him quickly, he didn’t want to think anymore.

The next morning, Simon decided to ruthlessly ignore whatever last night had been. He would not think about it. The more often he said that to himself, the more Baz seemed to pop up in his thoughts. Penny was already off to university, and he desperately needed a distraction. Maybe Ebb would help. Some of her warm tea and one or two cherry scones would hopefully do the trick.

He parked his bike on the curb. Ebb’s café was in between two tall glass buildings and the contrast was obvious. Right in between the towering buildings a meadow lay with a small cottage. Trees gently swayed in the wind. Goats and sheep grazed on the rich grass. Simon walked up the gravel path with a smile on his face. Already he felt so much more peaceful. The path was lined with flowers gently swaying with the breeze. Yellow roses bloomed next to the door. The sign creaked in the wind. A wind chime danced. 

As he pushed the door open, a bell resounded. Inside the cafe it was cozy. Armchairs lined with fluffy pillows, tables with lace doilies and small wild flower bouquets, bookshelves filled with old tomes, shelves filled with nick-nacks and teaware filled the warm space. A fireplace glowed with embers. Pictures lined the walls. All the tension drained out of Simon. Slowly he relaxed. 

“Welcome!” A cheerful voice called from the kitchen. Soon Ebb bustled into the room. In her hand she was holding a tray filled with scones and a cup of steaming hot tea. 

“Simon, dear. Take a seat.” Her smile was warm. He let himself be ushered into a corner where the sunlight shined through the window. She placed the tea and the scones down in front of him. 

“Thank you,” Simon said as he picked up the cup with a grateful smile. Ebb always knew just what you needed. A goat bleated from somewhere in the kitchen. Ebb sat down into the seat opposite of him.

“What troubles you so?” she asked. In the sunlight, her eyes looked almost goat-like, a golden glimmer hidden in their depths. She was a glaistig, a green lady. A protector of cattle and herders, yet also of children that lose their way. She watches over them when the parents are away. A guardian of the helpless. Other stories depict her as a cruel being. The Mage had told Simon stories of blood and death. He seemed to be almost afraid of her and avoided the meadow and the streets surrounding it. Ebb had never been anything but kind to Simon.

He had stumbled upon the café when he had been a child, lost and helpless when he missed the curfew of the care home. He had been prepared to sleep on the street somewhere. It had been winter and bitter cold. He had been in despair when he suddenly stumbled upon this place. Even with snow and ice all around, the meadow had been as green as if it was a summer day. He had thought that he could sleep in some of the hay that lay around for the goats and sheep. Ebb had found him and had welcomed him with open arms. She had prepared a small guest room for him. It had been the first time Simon had experienced such warmth.

Almost every holiday he spent his days in this cottage. He slept at the care home, but spent his waking hours here. He learned how to care for goats, how to bake and how to make tea from her. 

“Am I that easy to read?” Simon asked with a sigh.

“You’re an open book for some,” she said. With a bleat, someone pushed open the door to the kitchen. A baby goat wobbled over to them on still-shaky legs. A soft smile graced Ebb’s lips as she picked it up and let it lay in her lap. She ran her fingers through the soft fur. 

“Tell me what weighs on your thoughts?” she asked.

“Have you ever realized that you don’t know somebody at all? Even though you thought you knew them?” Simon asked as he picked up one of the scones. He could not suppress the hearty moan that left his lips at the divine taste. 

“Isn’t every relationship like that? So yes,” she said as she pet the baby goat. Its eyes were falling closed. Soon it was asleep, making adorable little sniffling noises as it slept. 

“Even if you used to live together with that person?” Simon asked.

“Is this about the Pitch boy?” Ebb asked. Simon nodded with his mouth full. Ebb had listened to a lot of his rants about Baz during the summer. Penny got too annoyed, so he vented to Ebb who listened with a warm smile to all of his words. He loved Penny, but Ebb was by far the superior listener. 

“He is different than I remembered him to be,” Simon admitted with a frown.

“People change. Time never stands still,” she answered, even though she had not aged a day in the fifteen years that he had known her. She remained a constant with her gentle eyes. 

“I don’t know what to do,” Simon said with a helpless expression on his face. 

“What do you want to do?” Ebb asked.

“I don’t know,” Simon said as he fidgeted.

“What do you want from Baz?” she asked.

“I don’t want him to hate me,” Simon admitted. “I want him to smile at me like he did last night,” Simon confessed. He wanted to see a smile. A sincere smile. Not the ones full of scorn and mocking that he had received during their school days. 

“See? That wasn’t that hard.” She smiled as she reached out and lightly patted his cheek.

“But how?” Simon asked with a groan. “Baz hates me,” Simon whined.

“He doesn’t hate you,” Ebb said with a laugh.

“You never met him, how do you know?” Simon asked.

“I know it, Simon trust me.” Ebb consolingly patted his cheek. “Just get to know him once more. Don’t let old grudges get in the way,” Ebb said with a smile. Simon nodded. Maybe there was a chance that he and Baz could become friends. He ignored the way his heart tripped at the word 'friends'.

He spent the rest of the morning in Ebb’s company. He helped feed the goats and helped bake another patch of scones. It was peaceful, like nothing dark could reach here. He left, feeling refreshed, and a calm had settled over him like a gentle cloak. 

Luckily the police department did indeed find something. All of the CCTV showed the victim walking home. Before the victim even stepped foot in the park, something happened. As a young man walked past in one of the shadows of the trees, something moved only to disappear again. The camera became fuzzy for just a moment before it returned to normal. There was nothing else. Later, through the footage of the library camera, one could see the victim stop in front of the mouth of the alleyway before stepping inside it. She had gone in there out of her own free will. The place of the murder was the alleyway, she had not been dumped there after the fact.

Simon asked for a replay of the corner in the park. The shadow moved, but there was no way to see a silhouette of any kind. The officers had played back even further, but there were no other abnormal signs on any of the footage. There were some drunks and homeless people depicted, but nothing out of the ordinary. Simon got on his bike and drove towards the park. Maybe he could find something.

The park was filled with people. Joggers, dog owners, young couples and old married couples. Simon slowly walked towards the place the CCTV was set up. He scanned the area. Nothing was suspicious in any way. He walked over to where he approximately thought the shadow had been. He did not see anything suspicious. Maybe a different perspective would give him some kind of answer. He kneeled down. As he looked around once more he noticed something at the base of the tree trunk. While he moved closer, he could slowly see that there was some damage done to the base of the tree. It looked like claw marks of some kind. Someone had kneeled down here and grabbed the tree so tight that they left claw marks behind. Something black was smeared along the marks. It had dried by now. Simon pulled out his cell and took a few pictures before calling the police department.

He informed them of his findings and also requested the files of the previous murder victims. He wondered if there was more CCTV footage of the other victims and if there was a trace of the same shadow in them as well. If yes, it would be the first solid lead he had gotten. He also asked if it was possible to get the CCTV footage from the camera near the club. The officers said that they would get back to him once they had cleared the new clues.

By afternoon, the police called Simon back, saying that they had the footage and analyzed the black substance that had been found on the tree. It was filed with the same DNA that they had found at the crime scene, and it seemed to be blood. Black blood. The officers led Simon to a smaller room filled with monitors. They did not know what Simon was looking for regarding the footage, so they handed him a week’s worth of it.

“Have fun with that,” one of the officers said as they handed him a box full of tapes.

“I will,” Simon grimaced. By the end of this, if his eyes were not hurting it would be a miracle. The camera was directly on the other side of the club. Since it was a fisheye camera it showed a larger portion of the street as well. He started watching the tapes, and on almost every tape he could see Baz walking towards the club. On one of the recent tapes, not even a day old, he could see a grainy Baz slowly walk towards the club. He watched on camera as Baz turned around to check behind him before he kept walking. He kept glancing behind him, and as he stepped into the alleyway, Simon saw something move in the shadows. There was something there. It seemed far larger than what had been in the park. This time he could make out a vague silhouette, and it made it seem taller than Baz. As Baz disappeared into the alley, the shadow moved after him only for sparks to erupt. There was an invisible wall there. A barrier spell. Simon shuddered to think about what would have happened if it had not been there. A mass of dark red eyes appeared in the shadow before disappearing in a blink. Had he not paused the video, Simon would have not even seen it on camera. It made the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. Something demonic was going on. It seemed really really bad. He needed to warn Baz.

He’d had no plans to return to the bar tonight, but right now that had changed. By the time he finally slammed the door of the precinct behind him, it had already become nighttime again. Simon ran down the steps, and as soon as he slung his legs over Cherry, he turned her ignition on. She roared to life. Hastily, he pulled on his helmet before driving out into the street. He hoped that none of the officers would pull him over for speeding. He parked his bike and walked towards the club with quick steps.

This time, as Simon stepped into the alley he slowly started to look around. He did not feel a thing from the barrier that was supposedly here. He slowly walked towards the corner the massive shadow had hidden. The wall looked like it had ash smeared on it. Simon touched it and rubbed it between his fingers. It smelled like sulfur. It had definitely been demonic.

“Damn it.” He had hoped that his hunch was incorrect. Demons made everything complicated. He stepped into the alleyway and broke in through the backdoor again. He managed to fight his way through the crowd of dancers in record time, only to stop at the sight of a big burly man leaning into Baz's space. Baz's lips were drawn back into a sneer. Simon could hear from where he was standing that all that left the man’s mouth were threats and insults. Baz's eyes glinted with coldness. Simon knew that look. It meant someone was going to be flayed. The man grabbed the front of Baz’s shirt. Simon reacted without thinking.

Before the man could punch Baz, Simon had grabbed the back of his collar and pulled him backwards. The man crashed into the ground with a loud noise. Before he could get up, two bouncers had grabbed him and were dragging him towards the exit.

“Ever the hero, Snow,” Baz sneered as he fixed his collar.

“Nice to see you too, Baz,” Simon said in answer. He would not rise to any of Baz's bait this time.

“Unlike your precious girlfriend, I am no damsel in distress,” Baz added as he nonchalantly leaned against the bar counter.

“Who said I was saving you? I doubt that your aunt would like a murder to happen in her establishment,” Simon said with a shrug. “And she’s not my girlfriend anymore,” Simon added awkwardly. The mention of Agatha in context with the word ‘girlfriend’ alone made him anxious.

“Oh, your wife then? Does she know that you’re spending your nights in a club?” Baz said with a sneer playing across his lips.

“Agatha and I broke up long ago,” Simon managed to get out. He always felt wrong-footed whenever he talked with Baz.

“The perfect couple of the hero and the princess is no more,” Baz said with a smirk. Simon narrowed his eyes.

“Do not drag Agatha into this,” Simon said with a dark look. He still remembered how Baz had flirted with her, and she had been more than flattered.

“Oh, still in love with her, golden boy? How very pathetic,” Baz asked with a sneer.

“No. Baz, Stop,” Simon tried. He could feel himself grow agitated. He had forgotten how much Baz could push his buttons.

“Aww, am I hitting a nerve, dear Chosen One?” Baz said as he pulled out a wine glass and started to polish it.

“Don’t call me that,” Simon said as he gritted his teeth.

“Why not? It’s what you are. The worst Chosen One to ever be chosen,” Baz said with a cold look. “The prophecy to banish the demon king. Instead you nearly set it loose. Such a pity that the fates decided to play you so,” Baz said as he held the glass against the light.

“Do not talk about what you know nothing about,” Simon growled lowly.

“I know more than you will ever know,” Baz said. His eyes seemed to glow eerily beneath the flashing lights for a moment.

“Wasn’t that always the case, Mr. Top Student,” Simon muttered under his breath.

“Oh, is that an admission of stupidity?” Baz asked with a smirk and a tilt of his head. The light framed his jawline and caused his long lashes to stand out even more.

“Shut up, Baz.”

“Make me, Snow,” Baz answered back with a challenging grin on his face.

The sudden noise from Simon’s cellphone interrupted the next words they exchanged. Penny was on the other line.

“Simon, something has happened. The police called, you need to go.” At Penny’s words, he checked his call history and indeed there were missed calls from the police in his timeline. He had no memory of having heard any of these calls.

“Go where?”

“I will pick you up.”

“Penny, since when do you know where I am?” Simon asked, but Penny had already hung up on him.

“Bunce, still the same as ever I see,” Baz said with a snort.

“I need to go,” Simon said, but his feet did not move.

“Then piss off, Snow,” Baz said as he lazily waved his hand towards Simon.

He flipped Baz the bird before storming out of the club. In his haste, he forgot to warn Baz. He only realized his error when he was already at his parked bike. 

He could already hear Baz’s disdainful voice filling his ears. He couldn’t deal with it again. So he would have to warn him next time and keep him safe tonight. Baz's shift would probably go for another hour. If Simon finished early, he would go and escort Baz home or discreetly follow him home to make sure he was safe. Still, he was about to turn around and walk back into the club when the sudden static in the air stopped him.

A poof and a cloud of dark purple smoke later and Penny was standing next to him. She was clutching an old book in her hands.

“What’s going on?” Simon asked as he sat down on his bike.

“The crime scene has been compromised,” Penny said.

“You’re coming with me?”

“They found runes that they cannot identify, so I am here to help. After all, my graduation paper was all about runes,” Penny said as she sat down behind him.

As they drove towards the library, sirens could be heard. The street was flooded in blue light. An ambulance was standing there with its doors wide open. A stretcher was quickly wheeled into it. The sudden shout of cardiac arrest surprised Simon so much that he nearly stumbled over his own to feet.

“What happened?” Simon asked the next best police officer.

“The crime scene has been destroyed and two officers are in critical condition,” the officer said before his superior shouted for him. With a show of their ID, they were allowed to cross the yellow tape.

The crime scene was a mess. Deep claw marks were ripped into the concrete. Black ash was everywhere and the thick scent of sulfur hung heavily in the air. The 'sorry' that had been scratched in the ground had been completely destroyed. The only thing left were the deep claw marks. The blood of the police officers was splattered everywhere. Penny moved towards the wall on the opposite side of the crime scene. Into the brick wall, someone had burned a deep black sign. It was a rune. Penny pulled out a piece of paper and copied it down before opening her book to look if she could find it anywhere. Simon continued to inspect the crime scene. It felt like this was a different kind of culprit. It almost seemed like it was searching for the culprit as well, but for what reason? Maybe it was the shadow that had tried to follow Baz. The amount of destruction could fit with the shadow monster Simon had seen in the footage.

They would have to hope for the officers to stabilize. Maybe they had seen their attacker and could give them something. Simon and Penny spent almost an hour looking over the crime scene. As they were about to leave, Penny noticed that there seemed to be some kind of paw print left in the ash. They called the officers over and the evidence was documented.

“Are you coming home or are you going to stalk Baz?” Penny asked as she crossed her arms.

“I’m not stalking him,” Simon said with a frown.

“Surreeee,” Penny said with an arched brow.

“I think whatever caused this destruction was following Baz the other night,” Simon admitted.

“What did it look like?”

“A mass of shadows with glowing red eyes,” Simon said.

“I will look into it. You keep your nemesis safe,” Penny said with a wink.

“He’s no longer my nemesis, I think,” Simon said, but Penny had already disappeared in a cloud of green smoke.

He shook his head, trying to not breathe in the smoke that smelt sharply of peppermint. He parked his bike around the corner of the club and waited for Baz to step outside. He didn’t have to wait long. After not even half an hour Baz walked out of the alleyway, bundled up in a thick scarf and warm jacket. He had always been weak to the cold. It reminded Simon of their endless arguments about the window. Baz wanted it closed because he was cold and Simon wanted to open it cause he felt like he was melting from the heat.

Baz walked a leisurely pace. From time to time he would look around himself with a suspicious gaze. It was a miracle that he seemed to have not yet noticed Simon. Maybe his years of following Baz into the catacombs might have been useful for this.

There was no sign of the shadow. Baz lived in the opposite direction of the crime scene, in an apartment complex that looked like it had come from a Victorian magazine. Simon watched as Baz unlocked the door to the complex’s courtyard and stepped inside, and only then did Simon let out a deep breath. The tension he had not noticed until now bled out of his shoulders. The next time he saw Baz he would have to make sure that Baz would no longer walk home on his own.


	4. Sign of the Dark

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for the lovely kudos and comments ~  
> All titles of this fic were taken from Powerwolf lyrics, if you ever need titles for sth dark, demonic or vampire focused their lyrics are a treasure trove.   
> I hope you enjoy the chapter ~

Baz locked the door of the apartment complex’s enclosed courtyard behind himself, trying to ignore the feeling of discomfort. He stepped out into the courtyard. There was no light. The lightbulb got fried months ago and no one cared enough to actually change it. As soon as he stepped into the yard something crawled up his spine and made his internal alarm bells ring.  
It felt as if hot air was brushing against his nape, like someone or something was breathing behind him. He slowly turned around.

He was staring straight at blood-red eyes. A jaw filled with razor-sharp teeth. Its body seemed to be made of shadows and had the vague form of an overly large dog. It snarled at him with its split tongue that looked like it belonged to a snake. Baz felt frozen as fear rose. He moved a step backward and the beast lunged for him. Adrenaline kicked in and Baz barely managed to evade.

  


A growl shook the ground as blood red eyes stared at Baz. Saliva dripped out of the open maw. The ground hissed where the liquid hit. Baz dropped his glamour. His nails sharpened till they became claws. Between his dark hair, a pair of horns nestled. His tail swished in agitation. He was no match for this monster. He had to get inside of Fiona’s wards, they should be able to hold this monster off. He slowly moved his foot. The beast lunged once more. Baz barely managed to avoid getting his neck bitten. 

Instead, one of the razor-sharp teeth caught his arm. It left a deep bleeding gash in its wake. Blood pooled out and dripped onto the cobblestone. He stumbled and crashed onto the ground as pain split him apart. The beast lunged for him a third time. Baz grabbed the nearest thing he could reach and threw it. A fist-sized stone crashed straight into the monster's mouth. The beast sputtered and coughed. Baz used his chance. Somehow he managed to get up. He ran towards the door. Fiona's wards would hopefully protect him. The beast howled and rushed after him. Baz managed to unlock the door. He ran inside and closed the door behind him with a bang. With a loud crash, it ran straight into Fiona’s wards. Sparks flew everywhere and the scent of burnt fur rose.

Baz did not know how long the wards would hold, but their flat was protected by even stronger barriers. He ran up the stairs, ignoring the burning pain that kept piercing him. His arm felt like it was on fire. He locked the door behind him as fast as he could before sinking onto the ground, trying to catch his breath. He needed to stop the bleeding. He stumbled into the bathroom and pulled out the first aid kit. He wrapped the bandage tight and yet the blood still seeped through as if it was a thin tissue paper. No matter what he did the blood kept flowing. He was starting to feel faint. With shaking hands he pulled out his phone. He dialed Fiona and put her on speaker.

“What do you want, Baz?” Fiona snapped from the other side.

“It won’t stop bleeding,” Baz said as he tried to keep pressure on his wound.

“... what won’t stop bleeding?” Fiona asked with a different kind of sharpness to her voice. An edge of worry had soaked into her words.

“I was attacked. My arm won’t stop bleeding,” Baz said through gritted teeth. The pain was horrible. It felt like someone had sprayed acid into the open wound. He could taste blood in his mouth. He had bitten through his lip.

“I will be right there, hold on boyo,” Fiona said as she hung up. The next moment he could hear cursing as the flat door was burst open. Fiona nearly ripped the bathroom door off of its hinges as she rushed to get to her nephew. Blood greeted her. It was smeared everywhere. All the white bathroom tiles were coated with it. It looked like the scene of a gruesome murder. In the middle of the bathroom, Baz sat. The first aid kit lay scattered around him. Everything was bloody.

Fiona pulled her wand out and rushed to his side. She fired every healing spell she knew. Even with every spell, she knew the wound stopped bleeding, but it did not close completely. It still looked raw. She let out a sigh of relief as the blood finally stopped flowing. Baz leaned against her in exhaustion. He was so pale that he looked more like a corpse. Had he not at least ambient fed beforehand he would have bled out before she could have gotten to him. She wrapped her arms around him and pressed him close.

There was no way she would lose Baz. He was her sister’s son, the boy she had watched grow up, and he was far too precious for her to ever lose him. She steered Baz out of the bathroom into the living room. He landed on the couch in an ungraceful heap. Fiona pressed a cup of tea into his hand. She needed to redo half of the other wards and add more to the courtyard. Whatever had attacked Baz had destroyed most of the yard.

Baz sipped his tea with shaking hands. Of course, something had to happen. He had felt like he was on cloud nine for the last few days. Simon’s mere presence was a balm to him. He had managed to talk to him without either of them throwing a punch. Even better, he was no longer together with Wellbelove. The attack had completely caught Baz by surprise. He had thought he would be safe from whatever had followed him in these walls, but it seemed like that was not the case.

“What happened?” Fiona asked as she took a seat opposite him with a glass full of whiskey. It wouldn’t surprise him if she emptied a whole bottle.

“Something attacked me. It had the vague shape of a dog, big and black, with red eyes and razor-sharp teeth,” Baz said with a grunt as he tried to hide the wince. Simply lifting the cup of tea caused pain to flare up.

“Did it reek of sulfur?” Fiona asked with narrowed eyes.

“Yeah. Definitely demonic,” Baz said as he tried to fight off the lethargy that crept into his limbs.

“How many eyes did it have?” Fiona asked.

“I was too busy trying to survive to count them,” Baz said with a huff.

“Were there more than four?” Fiona asked. She refilled her glass of whiskey.

“Yes, there were more than four,” Baz said as he thought back to the black beast. A shudder traveled down his spine as he remembered the red glow of the eyes.

“Fuck!” With a loud bang, Fiona slammed the whiskey bottle on the table. The bottom fractured and whiskey spilled all over their living room table. The scent of alcohol spread everywhere.

“A bloody hellhound attacked you,” Fiona said as she let out a string of obscene curses. His father would be appalled. “You will not go anywhere on your own,” Fiona declared.

“I love you, but no way in hell do I want you to be around me 24/7,” Baz said with a sneer.

“No objections, Basilton!” Fiona almost shouted. Baz looked at her, startled. He had never seen his aunt behave this way before. “A hellhound will not give up before it catches the person whose blood it tasted,” Fion declared as she ran a frustrated hand through her hair. It had definitely gotten a taste of Baz's blood.

“You cannot accompany me to my classes,” Baz said with a sigh.

“I know!” Fiona let out a frustrated noise. A portable barrier spell would not work. The object would have to be far too big for Baz to carry it around.

“Why don’t you ask lover boy to stay beside you?” Fiona asked out of the blue. The sip of tea Baz had just drunk ended up going into his windpipe. He sputtered as he tried to catch his breath.

“What?” Baz managed to croak. The coughing and sputtering had made his tired body ache all the more.

“Snow. The boy you have been making moon eyes over since forever,” Fiona said with a roll of her eyes.

“Since when have you known?” Baz asked with a sigh. There was no use denying it.

“It was obvious that you're head over heels for the Chosen One,” Fiona said with a snort.

“He hates me. Nothing will come of it,” Baz said with a shrug.

“Oh, the way he was watching you in the club did not seem like he hated you,” Fiona said with a smirk.

“Were you spying on me?” Baz asked with narrowed eyes.

“Me? Never?” The grin on her face nullified her words. Baz pinched the bridge of his nose and let out a sigh. There were stalkers everywhere. Simon and now his aunt as well.

“Snow is adept at dealing with demons,” Fiona said as she returned to the original topic at hand.

“No, I will not ask him,” Baz said with a decisive shake of his head.

“Why not?” Fiona asked with a frustrated growl.

“Firstly, he hates me. Secondly, once he finds out that I am a demon, he will split me in half along with the hellhound,” Baz said with a shrug of his shoulders like it was something that could not be changed.

“You are not like these demons,” Fiona said with a frown.

“I have demonic energy just as they do. Were I human I would have died long ago,” Baz said with a snort.

No matter what Fiona or anybody else said, Baz hated what he was. It hurt. A part of Fiona was glad that Natasha did not see her son have so little love for himself. It would break her heart. Fiona put on an old movie and stayed with Baz on the couch till he drifted off into a restless sleep. She would find a way to protect him. A plan was forming in her mind.

Simon felt like his head would split in two. The headache had gotten worse and worse throughout the day. The more he combed through the evidence, the more he was left clueless. Penny had also still not figured out what the rune from the crime scene was. She had traveled to the ancient library that was out of town today in hopes of finding a clue. By evening she was supposed to be back and hopefully will have figured out what the rune meant. Simon just hoped that they could finally learn what they were dealing with. Only his lunch at Ebb’s had allowed him to keep a semblance of calm. It was what currently kept him sane. 

As he fished out the keys to unlock their door, Simon was startled to find that the door was already open. Alarm bells started to go off inside his head. With the number of wards Penny had placed around their flat, it should have been impossible for a bulgar to break in. He pulled the Sword of Mages out of the special pouch at his belt. He slowly opened the door. The lights were off. The kitchen looked untouched, so he slowly crept towards the living room.

“Are you always walking around your home with your sword drawn?” an amused voice said from the center of their couch. Fiona Pitch was sitting there, a bottle of beer in hand. A smirk played across her scarlet lips. She almost looked like a female version of Baz. The sharp eyes which were currently hidden behind a pair of sunglasses and the jawline were the same. The sunglasses had the outline of a pair of batwings. Even their aristocratic noses looked similar, had Simon not broken Baz's nose that is. She had the same black hair, only half her head was shaved. The tips of her hair were coloured in dark red and her ears were pierced. Her combat boot clad feet were resting on their coffee table.

“How did you get into our flat?” Simon asked as he slowly lowered his sword. He flushed at the ambiguousness of Fiona Pitch’s comment.

“Through the front door like any normal being,” Fiona answered. A devilish sort of smile spread across her lips.

“No, how did you get through the wards?” Simon asked. Apparently all the Pitches had a talent for riling him up.

“Broke them,” she said with a shrug as she chugged the rest of her beer bottle.

“But, Penny said-” Simon said with surprise only to get interrupted by Fiona.

“It was not easy. That girl can cast some magic,” Fiona complimented with a whistle. “This couch is surprisingly comfortable, even though it looks like it belongs in the trash,” Fiona said as she relaxed against the couch.

“What's wrong with our couch?” Simon asked, affronted.

“Boy, that floral pattern is so last decade,” she said with a wave of her hand.

“Florals are wonderful,” Simon protested.

“Oh boy, you’re a fashion disaster,” she said as she pushed her sunglasses down and looked Simon up and down. She muttered something that sounded suspiciously like,”poor Baz”.

“Why are you here?” Simon asked, trying to get to the point. His headache had gotten worse with every word she said.

“I need you to do something for me,” Fiona said as she pushed her sunglasses up. A pair of sterling silver eyes stared at him with laser focus.

“Why should I do anything for you? You tried to steal my voice in fourth year,” Simon said with narrowed eyes as he slowly let himself sink into the armchair.

“You still got your voice, don’t you?” Fiona said with a shrug.

“Yes, but that's not the issue,” Simon said with a huff.

“I do not see any issue,” Fiona said as she pulled two more bottles of beer out of thin air. She handed one to Simon.

“You tried to kill me. Is this poisoned?” Simon asked as he eyed the bottle with suspicious eyes.

“You were and still are on the Mage's side, and one day I will take pleasure in killing that man.” Fiona's smile was all teeth and as sharp as a razor blade.

“Not if I am there,” Simon said as he took a sniff of the bottle. It smelled like normal beer.

“See? That’s why your voice needed to go,” Fiona said with a wink as she broke the bottle cap with her keys.

“And how does this qualify you for asking for my help?” Simon asked as he pinched his nose. He had given up trying to understand this woman.

“Oh, I need qualifications for that?” Fiona asked with a smirk.

“Just tell me what you want!” Simon nearly shouted in frustration. Fiona had the gall to start laughing. Loudly and freely. Simon sent her a disgruntled glare.

“Oh, I can see why Baz loves to rile you up,” she said with a smirk. Simon flushed, but decided not to answer. “I need you to do something for Baz,” Fiona said as the smile dropped off of her lips.

“What?” Simon asked as he sat up straight.

“Something keeps on following Baz. It nearly broke through my wards,” Fiona said. She wouldn’t tell him that Baz got injured. She did not want the Mage to catch wind of it. Nor did she mention the hellhound. She feared that Simon would decline if he knew what he might be facing. She needed to protect her family.

“Shit, what do you need me for?” Simon asked as he ran a frustrated hand through his hair. He had not expected the beast to be that strong. Damn it.

“I cannot keep him safe all the time. I need you to protect him,” Fiona said as she looked at him imploringly. It was the first time he saw genuine worry on her face.

“When and how?” Simon asked.

“I figured a way to keep him safe inside the university campus. Outside of the campus, our building and the club, the beast could reach him in a heartbeat,” Fiona said with a frown.

“You want me to walk him to uni and the club?” Simon asked with a tilt of his head.

“Yes, and I want you to walk him home,” Fiona said with a satisfied nod. If her nephew did not use the chances she had provided him with, she would personally lock him in a closet with Snow.

“All right,” Simon said with a nod. It would make it easier to keep an eye on Baz, and he would no longer have the sinking feeling of worry in his heart.

“That was easier than expected,” Fiona said with a smirk. The dark red of her lips was a stark contrast to her white teeth. For a moment Simon’s mind drifted and he wondered whether or not lipstick would suit Baz.

“Where did my wards go?” Penny's voice called with alarm from behind him. She stormed into the house and stopped dead in her tracks at the sight of Fiona Pitch sitting on their couch.

“Time for me to go,” Fiona said as she got to her feet. “Those wards were not half bad,” Fiona said as she walked past Penny. She ruffled her hands through Penny’s hair before she could protest. Fiona left the room with a sway to her hips and a smirk on her lips. The noise of the front door opening and closing echoed in the silent apartment.

“What was she doing here?” Penny asked with bafflement all over her face. Before Simon could answer, their front door opened again and Fiona called out.

“For that, I won’t kill you when I come for the Mage!” Fiona called in a cheerful voice before slamming the apartment door shut with a bang.

Penny turned towards Simon with an arched eyebrow.

“I can explain?” Simon said as he took a sip of the beer and promptly grimaced. He wanted to spit out, but forced himself to swallow it. His tongue burnt. That was no beer in the bottle. That had been plain vinegar with chili. The sound of a snap made him look up wide-eyed. A camera was floating in front of him before disappearing in a cloud of glittery smoke. He could almost hear Fiona's roaring laughter in the distance.

“Any ideas on how to hide a body?” Simon asked with a groan.

“Murder is not an answer,” Penny said as she consolingly patted his shoulder. He slumped further into the couch. Inside his mind, he was contemplating how to merge with the fabric and never face another human being. After a few moments, he gave her a summary of the conversation.

“Don’t forget that you need to sleep at some point,” Penny said with a sigh. Simon waved her off. Even if he went the whole day without sleep, it would make no difference to him.

“Did you figure out what the rune meant?” Simon asked and Penny lit up.

“They had a whole demonology section,” Penny said. She started to pull book after book out of her bag. “I think I will find the answer soon,” Penny said. Simon thought if he were the one to read all these books he would not be done by the end of the year. Simon listened to Penny ramble on about demonic runes. Her voice was the best kind of comfort, and before he could stop it, he had fallen asleep.

At some point, Penny noticed that Simon had fallen asleep. Usually, even if he didn’t understand something, he would make sounds to show her that he was still listening. When the noises stopped, she looked over and saw him sleeping. His eyes closed and his breathing even. She conjured a blanket and gently laid it over Simon. He needed a nap. One of these days Simon would run himself ragged.


	5. Gone with the Night

Baz was disappointed when he didn’t see Simon among the club goers. There was no sign of him anywhere. Maybe he had really managed to put Simon off with his callous words. No matter how many years passed, apparently Baz was still unable to keep his mouth shut when it came to Simon. He had not meant to bring up the incident with the great demon lord. Since Simon had first stepped foot inside the school, the words 'Chosen One' had followed him. Prophesied to slay one of the great demon lords, only for him to be the very reason for a demon to appear. The prophecy was utter bullshit in Baz’s view. The Mage used Simon, and yet Simon only saw his benefactor in a positive light. Baz shook his head to clear his thoughts.

He quickly changed his clothes in the staff room. He dreaded the walk home. He feared that there would be another attack the moment he stepped out of his aunt’s wards. But he would not let himself be controlled by this. No way in hell would a hellhound stop him from living his life. He pulled the taser out of his bag and put it in his back pocket. If that didn’t work, he would have to try and seduce a hellhound. The thought alone made him shudder.

As he stepped outside into the alleyway, he nearly tripped at the sight that greeted him. Simon Snow was leaning against the opposite wall. His arms were crossed and the edges of his tattoos could be seen from beneath his rolled-up sleeves. Baz had to urge to trace the pattern with his lips.

“Waiting to ambush me, Snow?” Baz asked as he brushed a strand of hair behind his ears, hoping to hide his flustered state. 

“In a way yes,” Snow said as he took a step towards him.

“Oh?” Baz asked.

“I will walk you home,” Simon said as he fell into step beside Baz.

“Still no damsel in distress,” Baz said with a sneer.

“Never said you were one. Maybe I just want some poisonous company,” Simon said with a shrug.

“Am I that toxic?” Baz asked with a leer.

“In the past, I would say yes, but I fear your aunt has taken first place,” Simon said with a grimace.

“Fiona? What did she do?” Baz asked with narrowed eyes. If his aunt had meddled, he would seriously consider throwing out her collection. She had an abundant collection of torture devices from different centuries. It was her pride and joy.

“Turned my poor beer into vinegar,” Simon said with a grumble.

“Your poor beer,” Baz said with a snort.

“My beer did not deserve such a horrible death,” Simon said with a grimace.

“How did she get a hold of your beer though?” Baz asked with narrowed eyes.

“Ehm … that is…” Simon said. His eyes were avoiding Baz. He searched for a way not to answer. Fiona had appeared again in their flat while he was in the middle of a shower. She had ignored his shrill scream and made him promise not to tell Baz or the Mage about their deal. She only left the bathroom after he promised. He had never before suffered such a fatal humiliation. He flushed bright red.

“You are acting very suspicious, Snow,” Baz said as he scrutinized Simon’s face closely. He was refusing to meet his eyes. Simon was such a bad liar.

“Oh, there is my bike, do you want a ride home?” Simon said as he took a step back and walked towards Cherry. Baz followed him.

“Your bike?” Baz asked with a croak. Oh heavens, Simon had a bike. Baz had already thought that the tattoos were deadly. The leather jacket Simon shrugged on and the leather gloves did not help Baz in the slightest. He wanted Simon to do filthy things to him on that bike. He hoped that Simon could not see the blush that seemed to envelop his whole body.

  


“Yes, my beauty,” Simon said with a grin as he patted Cherry’s tank.

“Since when do you own a bike?” Baz asked as he stepped closer. Simon was a vision as he leaned against his bike.

“I’ve had Cherry for about a year,” Simon said with a proud grin.

“Cherry?” Baz asked with an arched eyebrow.

“It’s her name,” Simon answered as he beamed at Baz.

“Let me guess, you named her after sour cherry scones,” Baz said with a sigh.

“Of course,” Simon exclaimed as he pulled out a helmet.

“Your obsession with sour cherry scones is unhealthy,” Baz said with a roll of his eyes.

“It’s completely normal!” Simon protested.

“I have seen you devour them. Nothing about your eating habits is normal,” Baz exclaimed as he shuddered. He used to watch in horror as Simon ate breakfast with more butter than scone.

“On a second note, your obsession with butter is worse,” Baz amended.

“Leave my food loves alone,” Simon said with a roll of his eyes as he thrust his helmet towards Baz, who eyed it with doubt. “Better messy hair than a splattered brain,” Simon said as he let the helmet drop into Baz’s hands.

“You would know all about a splattered brain,” Baz muttered as he put on the helmet. The effort he had spent this morning to make his hair look good was completely wasted. Not that Simon had ever noticed when Baz put extra effort into his hair.

“Are you calling me an idiot again?” Simon said as he put on the spare helmet.

“If the shoe fits,” Baz said with a smirk. Simon rolled his eyes before eyeing Baz.

“The helmet straps are definitely too long.” He said as he stepped closer.

“I cannot get them to shorten,” Baz admitted with a grimace.

“Let me do it,” Simon said as he reached out. The first touch of Simon’s fingers near his throat caused Baz’s body to completely freeze. For a moment, all the breath left his lungs. Even this small touch caused heat to race along his skin. He hoped that Simon could not see that he was blushing. The faintest of touches was enough to send his body into a spiral. Never before had he realized just how touchstarved he was. He could feel Simon's breath along his chin, it sent shivers down his spine. Simon’s lips were just within reach.

“There, done,” Simon said as he took a step back. The close proximity had caused Simon’s body to go haywire and he needed to snap out of it. He could smell the scent of cedar and bergamot. God, he hadn’t even realized that he had missed the smell of Baz. Or rather, the smell of his expensive shampoo.

Simon swung his leg over the machine. Baz realized that Simon straddling his bike was way worse than just standing beside it. He bit back a groan.

“Hop on,” Simon said as he turned the ignition and the wonderful sound of an engine roared to life.

“Behind you?” Baz asked. Oh god, this would turn into a test of his endurance.

“Where else?” Simon asked with an arched brow. Baz bit his lip and watched Simon for a moment as if unsure.

“Nothing will happen. Just hold on to me,” Simon said as he thought that Baz might be a bit wary of a bike ride. “I am a good driver.”

“Why does that make me believe that the opposite is actually true,” Baz said warily. If Snow was a bad driver, that would at least kill the half-hard erection in his pants.

“I never had an accident,” Simon proclaimed as Baz slowly stepped closer.

“Why does that sound like a lie, Snow?” Baz asked as he slowly swung his leg over the machine. He kept a careful distance between them.

“It's not a lie. You have to hold on to me,” Simon said, and Baz reached out and grabbed the back of his clothes. Any closer and he feared that his body would betray him.

“Baz, do you really call this holding on?” Simon said as he reached behind and took a hold of Baz's hands. He gently tucked Baz forward so that his front was almost flush with Simon’s backside. He pulled at Baz till his arms were tightly wrapped around his torso. Baz didn’t know what to do. The heat of Simon along his front and his smell alone made him dizzy. He just hoped that Simon would not feel his erection.

The vibrations of the bike beneath his ass did not help matters. He bit his lip to not let out another sound. God, this was torture. Sweet agonizing torture. He squeezed his eyes shut in hope that if he did not see Simon, it would not be as potent. Nope, he was wrong, it made it all the worse. He tried to distract himself, but nothing was more attention-grabbing than the young man in front of him. As they rode through the street, a part of Baz wished for it to never end. But all too soon they reached the building Baz lived in. He quickly got off and turned his back towards Simon in hopes that he would not catch sight of it. As soon as Baz took off the helmet, Simon started to snicker.

“What?” Baz asked with a glare.

“Your hair,” Simon managed to get out between giggles.

“Oh fuck off, Snow,” Baz said as he ran his fingers through his hair. It already felt like a bird’s nest between his fingers, he did not want to know if it’s look matched.

“This is the first time I have seen your hair this messy,” Simon said with a grin.

“For good reason,” Baz muttered as he tried to sort the mess out.

“When did you stop slicking it back?” Simon asked. His eyes followed Baz’s movements.

“After freshman year. Why?” Baz asked.

“It looks better loose,” Simon said with a shrug, leaving Baz feeling flustered internally.

“Oh?” Baz managed to get out, hoping that he did not come off as a complete fool.

“You look less like an evil vampire this way,” Simon added with a grin.

“Oh, not this again,” Baz said with a grimace.

“What?” Simon asked with a confused expression.

“For the millionth time Snow, I am not a vampire,” Baz said with a sneer.

“For the millionth time Pitch, you’re a vampire,” Simon shot back.

“Ugh, I give up,” Baz said as he threw his hands up.

“HA, you admit it then,” Simon exclaimed.

“I admit nothing,” Baz sneered while he slowly stepped towards the door. As his hand touched the doorknob, he wondered if Simon would walk him up. He did not want to enter the courtyard alone. No matter that his aunt added wards upon wards. He still remembered the sickening smell of sulfur and the red eyes. He glanced over his shoulder. He was too proud to ask, but in this moment, he didn’t have to.

“I will walk you up,” Simon said as he scanned the street. There was nothing out of the ordinary. Still, he would feel better if he personally saw Baz reach his apartment door.

“There is no need for that,” Baz protested. Even Simon noticed that it was only a halfhearted protest. He followed Baz inside. The building looked more like a museum from the inside than an actual apartment complex.

“Is that a real iron maiden in the corner?” Simon asked. He eyedthe torture device standing in the corner like it was a completely normal decoration.

“Yeah, I told Fiona a million times to find a better place for it,” Baz said with a huff as he unlocked the door.

“That's your aunt's?” Simon asked, feeling a little green.

“Yeah, she has strange hobbies,” Baz said with a wave of his hand as he took off his jacket.

“Never cross Fiona Pitch,” Simon muttered under his breath.

“So,” Baz said as he watched Simon standing at the edge of the apartment entrance.

“So?” Simon asked as he tilted his head in question.

“Do you want to come in and have a beer?”

“Ah, no way,” Simon exclaimed as he shook his head. Baz tried not to show his disappointment.

“I will not fall for this trick again,” Simon exclaimed.

“Trick?” Baz asked with a confused frown.

“I will not drink vinegar,” Simon said as he crossed his arms and glared at Baz. Baz couldn’t help the laughter that spilled forth.

“Snow, I promise you that the beer will not taste like vinegar. You can also have tea or whiskey,” Baz offered.

“Really?” Simon asked with a suspicious gaze.

“I can perform a magical oath, if it makes you feel better?” Baz said with a mocking smirk.

“No need,” Simon said as he bristled. He followed Baz into the apartment. The door fell shut behind them. The inside of the flat and the outside were like night and day. Everything was modern and all sleek black lines.

“Did we time travel?” Simon asked as he looked around. Baz snorted but did not dignify Simon with an answer. Simon gazed around the flat. Everything was in dark colours. The large, black bookshelf filled from top to bottom seemed to fill the whole living room. In the corner next to the shelf stood a violin.

“Do you still play?” Simon asked as he walked towards the violin.

“Don’t touch that. She is an heirloom,” Baz said as he stepped out of the kitchen with one beer and a glass of red wine in hand. Simon pulled the hand that had been reaching out towards the instrument back.

“I wouldn’t damage her,” Simon protested as he flopped down on the couch. Okay yeah, the couch at Penny and his flat was more comfortable.

“You’re a disaster, Snow. I would not want her to become collateral damage,” Baz said with a sneer.

“I am not that much of a disaster,” Simon said with a roll of his eyes as he took the beer from Baz with a muttered thanks.

“Who was the one that caused the alchemy classroom to explode?” Baz asked with an arch of his eyebrow. His lips were tinted red after his first sip of wine. Simon caught himself watching his mouth. The red looked enticing against the pale skin. Yeah, he could safely conclude that lipstick would probably suit Baz a lot. He forced his gaze away from Baz’s lips and back to the story, or he should rather say the memory at hand.

“I was tired, all right?” Simon said with a sigh as he slumped into his seat.

“Tired enough to mix up the two key ingredients?” Baz asked with a look on his face as if he was watching a bug do something unusual.

“The Mage had me out on a mission till late, of course I was tired,” Simon said with a roll of his eyes.

“You were fourteen,” Baz stated flatly. Oh, he had more than enough reasons to dislike the Mage. Sending a fourteen-year-old out to do dangerous missions was just the cherry on top. Firstly, the Mage reformed all of Baz’s mother’s policies. He turned the magic school of Watford, his mother’s pride and joy, back into a medieval mindset. The Mage was actively acting against his family and apparently practiced child labor. How wonderful.

“Yeah, it was one of the first missions I went on alone,” Simon said with a proud grin. Baz had to urge to shake him. It was not a good thing for a fourteen-year-old to go alone.

“What was the mission?” Baz asked and hoped that it was not too bad.

“A demonic ritual,” Simon said as he took a sip of his beer. Thank goodness it tasted like normal beer.

“You were sent out to deal with a demonic ritual by yourself when you were fourteen?” Baz asked again as he gritted his teeth against the rage that was building. Simon Snow could have gotten killed. He could have died and Baz would have never known. At least the boy should have gotten a day off, but no, instead he blows up the classroom.

“Yup, got my first scar from that one as well,” Simon said as he grinned at Baz.

“You were injured?” Baz asked as he clenched his fist. He had noticed the copper scent in their room. It had been so faint, he had not thought Snow had gotten himself injured.

“See?” Simon said as he pulled his shirt up. Above his hip, a jagged scar ran along. Baz ignored the stutter in his heartbeat at the sight of the bare skin. Instead, he felt like burying the Mage alive.

“The conjurer got me with a dagger. I was too slow,” Simon explained as he dropped his shirt again.

“Where was the Mage during all this?” Baz asked with a sneer.

“At school?” Simon asked with a blink. He watched as a very familiar expression of hatred overtook Baz’s pretty features. He had never before realized how good Baz looked without a sneer and hatred on his face. Now, seeing it in comparison, he much preferred the Baz that did not glare at him.

“He’s a spineless coward,” Baz said with a growl.

“He is not,” Simon said with narrowed eyes.

“He sent a fourteen-year-old out to deal with a demon while he stayed safely inside the school?!” Baz said with a harsh glare.

“He was busy,” Simon protested.

“Too busy? Too busy, so he sent a fourteen-year-old out,” Baz said with a sneer. He grabbed the wine glass tightly.

“He has to manage all of Watford. Of course he is busy,” Simon said, slowly getting defensive.

“You're his heir, he should keep you safe, not send you into danger,” Baz snapped.

“I could hold my own,” Simon said with a glare.

“That is not the point,” Baz exclaimed. “It's not a child's job to save the world.” Baz's words were barely louder than a whisper. He looked straight at Simon, hoping that the next words would make Simon understand. “It's not a child’s duty to protect the adults. The adults are supposed to protect the children.” Baz bit out. Just like his mother had done. He looked down at the red liquid swirling in his glass. He wondered what she would say to all of this. The anger that had built in Simon left just like that. Baz’s eyes looked so sad. Before he could utter another word, Baz took a huge gulp of his wine and turned his piercing gaze back towards Simon.

“He still sends you out on dangerous missions,” Baz said with a realization of dawning horror. Simon was still a pawn in that man's game even with the prophecy being nullified. Simon was nothing more than a chess piece. Whereas for Simon, that man was the only father figure he had ever known.

“He is my mentor. He showed me the world filled with magic. Of course, he saved me and kept me safe during my school years,” Simon said.

“Ha?! Kept you safe?! He kept sending you back to the care homes in summer! That is not safe!” Baz nearly shouted. A snarl was affixed on his features.

“It was safest for me!” Simon defended the Mage.

“It saved you from what? A magical community that loved you? Spending the summer at Watford, your home? Spending your summer with Wellbelove and Bunce? With people that actually give a shit about you?” Baz asked with an intense stare.

“Can we stop talking about this?” Simon asked. His voice was small. Baz was pointing out all the things he did not want to think about. Baz did not hear him.

“The Mage is using you. You’re nothing more than a lapdog that does whatever its master commands,” Baz said with a sneer. Simon had never felt so small before Baz.

“I am not a lapdog,” Simon said with a glare. He would not be vulnerable.

“Then show it. Stop doing the Mage’s every bidding,” Baz said with a snarl.

“You are just trying to weaken my relationship with the Mage,” Simon growled back.

“HA!” Baz’s mocking laugh was the same as back during their school years, and it still made Simon bristle. “I would gain nothing from that,” Baz said with a sneer as he put down the glass on the end table.

“A vulnerable Mage,” Simon shot back with a harsh glare.

“That man has no vulnerabilities,” Baz said with a snarl. “Not even threatening his golden boy, his chosen heir, you, made him vulnerable. Just ask Fiona.” Baz said as he stood up.

“Where are you going?” Simon said with a suspicious look.

“To the loo, with your permission,” Baz bit out before turning on his heel and stalking towards the bathroom. It was like talking to a brick wall. The Mage is the best. Ugh, it made Baz sick. None of the changes made by the Mage were for the good of the magical community. No matter what the Old Families said, no one listened to them. Uniting the world of Normals and magical beings was wrong. One could not just decide to do that suddenly. The Normals needed to be prepared. If one just dumped it on them, there would be another witch hunt. Baz splashed himself with cold water hoping to calm down. It would do him no good if he kept getting angry at Simon. When he returned back to the living room, he was the picture of composure again.

“Do you want another beer, Snow?” Baz asked as if the argument before had never happened. Simon visibly startled.

“N-no, thanks. You need a bell,” Simon said as he tried to calm his racing heart down. Jesus, that had given him a fright.

“Am I too stealthy for you, golden boy?” Baz asked with a smirk as he sat back down beside Simon.

“You’re worse than a sneaky cat,” Simon admitted with a frown.

“And he's still not better than me,” a voice said from behind the couch. Simon let out a very undignified yelp in surprise.

“Fiona, welcome back,” Baz said with a smirk as he held out a glass of whiskey for her. He had poured it already. This was the usual time she returned home. Usually, he was already asleep by this time. At some point, he had gotten into the habit of leaving a glass of whiskey out for her. But only if the day at the club seemed to have been stressful. Today was such a day. Some young entitled rich brat had decided to cause an uproar. Fiona had to deal with the annoyance for most of the night.

“Thank you,” Fiona said as she almost vaulted over the back of the couch.

“Welcome into our lovely home, Snow, want another beer?” Fiona asked as she took a sip of her whiskey.

“No thanks. I will not trust you with my drinks ever again,” Simon said with suspicion clear in his gaze.

“What did you meet with Snow for anyways?” Baz asked with narrowed eyes as he looked at his aunt, willing her to tell him the truth.

“You told him?” Fiona said as she turned towards Simon with a glare that could peel the skin from flesh.

“I only said that you made me drink vinegar,” Simon said as he held his hands up in surrender.

“Why?” Baz asked as he stared at his aunt who avoided his line of sight with the skillfulness of a ninja.

“Oh, I got something for you, Baz,” Fiona said as she pulled a couple of pictures out of her back pocket.

Baz could not help the laugh that he released. The sight of a grimacing Snow staring at the camera like a deer in the headlights was too amusing.

“You have pictures?!” Simon exclaimed as he reached forward as if to grab them out of Baz’s hands. Baz jumped up and evaded Simon's grabby hands.

“Throw them away!” Simon exclaimed as he made another attempt at grabbing them. Baz was still taller than him even if he was not as buff as Simon. The pictures were held just out of reach.

“Why would I?” Baz asked with a teasing smirk.

“Baz!” Simon growled as he darted forward. Baz ran back out into the hallway.

“These would make a lovely decoration for my wall,” Baz said with a grin that seemed so unusual on his face. It made Simon falter for just a moment. Baz used the chance to widen the distance between them.

Simon made a noise of frustration and rushed forwards.

“Do not break my nose again!” Baz protested as he ran away. Simon caught up to him and tackled him onto the ground.

“Why do you always have to get physical?” Baz said with a groan. Wonderful, now he would have a headache.

“You started it,” Simon said as he slowly pushed himself up. Baz was lying beneath him. His black hair spread out like the finest strands of silk. A flush was high on his cheekbones as he turned his head away. Their bodies were pressed flush against each other. Simon could feel each rise and fall of Baz’s chest against his own. It was more intimate than he had ever been with Baz. His lips were still stained red from the wine and Simon wondered if his lips would taste like it as well. He slowly leaned in.

Baz’s body was going into overdrive. Everything felt amplified. All the heat that had risen during the bike ride broke out again. He squeezed his eyes shut. The sight of Simon’s blue eyes would only make it worse. Simon was heavy, and yet it didn’t feel like Baz was being squished. It felt nice. He could feel Simon’s breath against his cheek. It felt like it was getting closer, as if Snow was leaning in.

“No sex in the hallway!” Fiona shouted from the living room. Simon flushed bright red before jumping backwards. Baz hated his aunt at this moment.

“S-sorry, uh, I gotta go.” Baz had seen Simon flustered many times before. This time the blush made something pleasant curl in his stomach. Before Baz could get in a word edgewise, Simon had stormed out of the flat. His leather jacket was still laying on the couch and the pictures were lying scattered on the floor.

Simon only noticed that he had forgotten his jacket when the cold bit into his skin. But he would not go back upstairs again and get it. He would not be able to face either of them without flushing and stuttering. Fiona's words had unbidden brought images to his mind that made his body fill with heat. Baz spread out beneath him had not helped.

It was the first time he had ever thought of kissing a boy. The first time he had thought of touching and caressing someone of the same gender. It was the first time that he had thought of Baz that way. The image of Baz with his grey eyes clouded in pleasure would not leave his mind. Simon ran a hand through his hair, he did not know what was wrong with him.

He only ever had one girlfriend and that had been Agatha. She had been perfection, and yet he did not feel the unbearable need to touch her and keep her in his sight constantly. He already felt uneasy knowing that Baz was no longer within his sight. Even during their school years when Baz was out of his sight, he had felt uneasy. He had feared that Baz would be plotting his demise. Maybe it had never been about the plotting. Maybe he just wanted to always see Baz.

Simon shook his head as if trying to shake the thoughts out. He was getting a headache. Simon stopped dead in his tracks as he caught the faintest scent of sulfur. No matter where he looked, there seemed to be nothing close by. There was no way in hell he would let Baz walk anywhere alone.

He drove home and fell into an exhausted sleep. His dreams were filled with grey eyes and graceful musician’s fingers. It was filled with a lean body glistening with sweat and soft moans that filled his ears. He woke up to a wet patch in his underwear. He flushed red in shame. He hadn’t had such an intense wet dream since forever.

Simon’s phone started ringing. The ringing pulled him out of his fitful sleep. It was the Mage. He was barely awake. After he gave a halfhearted report on the current situation regarding the case, the Mage said to him to take care and hung up. Simon did not say a word about Baz. He stared at his phone lost in thought. Baz’s words kept ringing in his ears. He was no lapdog.

Penny was not there and thus Simon left to get breakfast at Ebb’s. By the time he left the cottage, he was feeling much calmer and no longer felt like strangling Baz. Ebb always made him feel calmer.


	6. Torn by the Liar’s intend

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for the kudos and comments ~ ❤️

Baz woke to the sound of his phone ringing nonstop. With bleary eyes, he picked it up. The call-ID displayed the word 'hellspawn'. He slowly sat up, the blanket falling off of his shoulders.

“What do you want, Mordelia?” Baz asked with a growl as he picked up.

“A good morning is common courtesy, brother,” Mordelia said. If she had been next to him, he could already imagine her mocking look.

“Mordy,” Baz said through gritted teeth as he suppressed a jawn.

“Good morning. Fiona texted me last night,” Mordelia said with an audible smirk in her voice.

“Seriously?” Baz said as he let himself fall back onto the bed with a low grunt.

“If it were up to you, I would not have heard a thing,” Mordelia said with a haughty tone. God, no wonder Snow went insane when he used that tone. He really regretted that Mordelia was turning out to be somewhat of a mini Baz.

“For good reason,” Baz muttered into his pillow. He threw the phone onto the bedside table, yet Mordelia's voice didn’t diminish the slightest. It seemed she had enchanted the phone call. Merlin save him from teens with magic.

“So tell me everything,” Mordelia commanded. Sometimes Baz forgot that Mordelia was so much younger than him.

“No,” Baz groaned out as he pulled the blanket over himself and burrowed his head beneath his pillow.

“Then your priceless Oscar Wilde collection will go up in flames,” Mordelia said with a cheerful laugh that made Baz’s hairs stand up.

“You wouldn’t dare,” Baz growled out as he raised his head from beneath his pillow.

“Do you want to test me, big brother?” Mordelia asked sweetly.

“Fine, what do you want to know?” Baz asked as he admitted defeat.

A phone call had never before traumatized him as much as this one had. Mordelia was relentless, she wanted to know every single detail. She cooed and awed at all the key moments. Baz had wanted to plug his ears to stop himself from hearing her reactions. He had slept so well, and now he was already feeling like a lifeless zombie again. He loved his sister, he really did, but she had gotten it inside her head that she needed to help. Till now Baz had been successful in avoiding all of her plans. He hoped that it remained so. He would have to speak some harsh words with Fiona. How dare she betray him so and spill the beans to his little sister?

With a groan, Baz got up from the bed. Yesterday seemed like a bizarre dream, and Baz felt like he was on cloud nine. Simon and he had been civil, they had joked with each other. It was a dream come true. Baz went to all of his classes, feeling on top of the world. Not even the unresolved sexual desire of the girl sitting two rows in front of him could dampen his spirit. It felt like the day was flying by him so fast. Soon it was nightfall, and with a sigh, he left the university library. He would have to finish this term paper on another day.

He walked towards the club and felt strangely disappointed when he did not see Simon. He forced himself to ignore the sting. A professional smile bloomed on his face as he mixed drinks for a couple of overly flirtatious ladies. By the time his shift was over, he felt bone tired. He just wanted to sleep.

He stepped foot into the back alley and froze. Simon was leaning against the furthest wall, dressed in a dark red leather jacket.

“Snow?” Baz asked in confusion.

“Baz,” Simon answered with a grin.

“What are you doing here?” Baz asked with suspicion.

“Walking you home and getting my jacket,” Simon said with a shrug. Baz eyed him with suspicion, but decided not to pursue the matter.

“Want to take Cherry again?” Simon asked.

“No, I'd rather walk,” Baz said quickly. He did not want to deal with being so close to him again. The last ride had already been the sweetest torture. 

“Okay,” Simon said with a shrug.

They walked in silence next to each other. Baz wracked his brain for anything that he could say that would not lead to one of their typical arguments. Yet for once, the words escaped him. He always teased Simon for being unable to string together a coherent sentence. Now he couldn’t even think of one simple sentence. Ironic.

“Did you really keep the picture?” Simon asked out of the blue as they stepped foot inside the park. Most of it was bathed in shadows, only the lights of the lanterns banished some of the darkness.

“Of course I did,” Baz said with a smirk. Simon groaned. “As if I would let go of such brilliant blackmail material,” Baz added.

“Don’t you dare,” Simon said as he glared at Baz.

“You are not the boss of me,” Baz sneered.

“Fine, you can request anything,” Simon said through gritted teeth. Baz tried to hide the delight that wanted to burst out. He hoped he had managed to put on an expression that resembled ambivalence.

“Give me your phone,” Baz said as he held his hand out.

“Here,” Simon said as he handed it over with a weary expression.

“Your password is pathetic,” Baz said as he unlocked the phone after only his second try. 

“It’s not!” Simon protested with an indignant huff. 

“Cherry scone is not a safe password,” Baz said with a mocking smile. He quickly entered his number before handing the phone back to Simon.

“How can I be sure that you did not infect it with something?” Simon asked in a joking tone as he eyed his phone like it was a bomb that could go off at any moment.

“You will never be sure, Snow,” Baz said with a mocking grin. He had sent himself a message so now he also had Simon’s number.

“There is no tracking as well?” Simon asked as he looked at his phone from all angles.

“I do not need to know where you are every hour of the day,” Baz said with a roll of his eyes. “You were always the stalker,” Baz added with a mocking grin.

“I was not stalking you,” Simon protested as he waved his arms around.

“Following me around all day was not stalking?” Baz asked with an arched brow.

“I was just keeping an eye on you!” Simon exclaimed.

“That's called stalking,” Baz deadpanned.

“Baz!” Simon whined as he pouted. He came to a stop and stopped walking.

“Stop that,” Baz said with a snort.

“Stop calling me a stalker then,” Simon said with a glare as he crossed his arms in petulance.

“Oh god, Snow, stop being a child,” Baz said with a roll of his eyes.

“Baaaaaazzzz,” Simon whined again.

“Merlin, fine, you’re not a stalker. Happy now?” Baz asked with an aggrieved sigh. Simon still caught the twitch of his lips as if he was fighting a smile. Simon felt triumphant at the sight.

“Extremely,” Simon said with a grin that almost blinded Baz.

Baz felt almost disappointed when they reached the door of his building. They would part ways again after he gave Simon his jacket. He didn’t want that.

“Do you want to come up for a beer?” Baz asked.

“Sure,” Simon answered with a sunny grin.

Baz opened a beer for Simon and made himself comfortable beside him on the couch. They talked about everything and nothing. Mostly, they sat in companionable silence. The lack of words didn’t feel like a damnation. He felt comfortable. Baz’s eyes slowly slipped shut. No matter how hard he tried to remain awake, he was losing the battle against sleep. Soon he slumped sideways and was dead to the world.

Simon watched in amusement as Baz fought to keep his eyes open. As soon as he lost the battle, he flopped over, head rested on Simon’s shoulder. Simon could smell the scent of bergamot in the air. He couldn’t resist running his hand through Baz’s hair. It felt as soft as he had always imagined. Baz's nose wrinkled in his sleep and he pressed closer towards Simon’s warmth. Simon’s heart skipped a beat.

Simon took a deep breath before slowly extricating himself from beneath Baz. As much as he had been comfortable, he did not want Fiona to find them like this. He did not need to give her more potential blackmail material. He covered Baz with his jacket. Baz snuggled into the jacket and the sight made Simon flush. He had never before thought that Baz might look good in his clothes. But now that the thought had popped up, it was hard to ignore it. Simon wanted to kiss him. He banished the thought back to where it came from. He would not think about it anymore.

He forced his gaze to break away from Baz’s peaceful sleeping form. As silently as possible, he sneaked out of the apartment. The door closed behind him with a click.

During the day, Simon would work on the case. He listened to interviews and reviewed hours of footage from the cameras. No matter how much he searched, he did not manage to find a new lead. The looming shadow that seemed to hunt Baz was the only clue he had for now. The injured police officers had woken up in the hospital, but both had not seen anything. They only remembered darkness and pain. 

Each night he would wait outside the club or Baz's residential complex each night. Baz and him would snark back and forth. Simon would listen to Baz complain about the patrons that managed to annoy him. Somehow it had become Simon’s favorite time of the day. Just watching Baz talk and listening to him snark made Simon inexplicably happy. The urge to kiss Baz had not disappeared as he had hoped. He knew that he was staring at Baz’s lips way too much, but Baz had not yet called him out. If he didn’t say anything, he would remain unable to control his eyes as they trailed over the shape of his lips.

Simon wondered if he had always looked at Baz’s lips this much. Penny had been very unhelpful and only reminded him of the rule to keep the Baz talk to a minimum. Baz was completely consuming his mind, and he wondered if this was another plot, but there was no evidence. There had been no whisper into his ear to cloud his mind like Baz had done to that patron. None of Simon’s rune tattoos had flared up in warning. No thrall and no spell had him in Baz’s grip. He was thinking about Baz all on his own. Sometimes he wanted to fry his brain or install a stop button somewhere. Maybe Penny knew a spell that could stop one from thinking.

A few days after Fiona had initially broken into Simon’s home, the Mage called him to his office. Simon stopped going through the old video footage and went over right away.

As Simon sat down opposite of the Mage, he could not help but feel as if there was something going on. It did not feel like a reprimand or a scolding. The cloying feeling of disappointment hung in the air. He hated it. It already made him feel on edge. The worst had been after the demonic lord had broken free.

“How is the case going?” the Mage asked as he shuffled some documents to the side.

“There has been no new leads, sir,” Simon said as he tried not to squirm beneath his stare.

“Nothing at all?” the Mage said as he narrowed his eyes.

“We are still going over the evidence of the older murders,” Simon said as he straightened.

“How is Mr. Pitch doing?” the Mage asked as he signed a new sheet of paper. The question seemed to be asked in such a casual way, but it still made Simon freeze.

“S-sir?” Simon asked as his thoughts raced. How had the Mage figured out that he was in contact with Baz? “Baz is fine,” he managed to get out after a moment of awkward silence. He felt like an insect being dissected beneath the Mage’s stare.

“You should be careful with whom you associate,” the Mage said with a kind smile.

“Sir?” Simon asked again as he forced his hands to stop fidgeting.

“The Pitches are trying to repel all the progress I have made for a united world,” he said with a tired sigh. “You shouldn’t trust them blindly,” the Mage said as he slowly stood up and lightly patted Simon’s shoulder.

“But-” Simon opened his mouth, but the Mage interrupted him.

“Don’t forget that he pushed you down the stairs, and that Fiona Pitch nearly took your voice,” he reminded Simon in a grave voice.

“I know, but-” Simon attempted to say, but again he couldn’t finish his sentence. 

“Have you found any connection between the victims yet?” the Mage asked as he walked towards the window behind his desk. From here, one had a beautiful view over Watford.

“Nothing definitive just yet,” Simon said with a small sigh of relief. This he could talk about. His tangled emotions regarding Baz were a mystery even to him. He did not know what his feelings regarding the Pitch family was. The only thing he felt was confusion.

“No connection whatsoever?” the Mage asked with a frown.

“All of the murders have happened in the same area of Watford,” Simon said with a grim expression.

“Can you show them to me on the map?” the Mage asked as he pulled a city map out of his drawer. Simon leaned over the table and marked all the spots the victims had been found.

“Is there nothing else you have found?” he asked as he looked at Simon with intense eyes.

“One victim had a card from Pitch Black,” Simon said as he pointed at the club on the map.

“It’s within a 5-mile radius of all of the victims,” the Mage noted with a contemplating expression.

“I haven’t found anything linking the club to the murders,” Simon said.

“Are you sure?” the Mage asked.

“Yes,” Simon said.

“Don’t let the Pitch boy distract you from the case,” he said as he sat back down again. He was watching Simon closely.

“W-what? No, he is-” Simon protested. The Mage held up his hand and Simon’s words disappeared.

“You said that something sulfuric had followed Baz and the crime scenes also stank of sulfur,” the Mage said and Simon didn’t know how he knew that. Simon didn’t remember telling him.

“The shadow at the crime scene and the one following Baz appear to be one and the same,” he mused. “Just keep your eyes on him. Maybe he is connected to the murders.” The Mage tapped his chin thoughtfully. “I fear that they might be the same person,” he said with a weary sigh. All colour drained out of Simon’s face.

“NO! Baz would never do something like that!” Simon protested loudly. He was almost shouting. He had jumped up from the chair in agitation. Both his hands rested on the edge of the desk as he leaned forward to stare at the Mage imploringly.

“Simon, people change, sometimes for the worse,” the Mage said with a sad expression.

“Baz, wouldn’t!” Simon said as he shook his head.

“Calm down, my boy,” the Mage said with a gentle smile. Simon slowly let himself sink back into the seat. “I know he might have nothing to do with it,” he said with a weary sigh. “But be prepared.”

“But-” Simon protested.

“I don’t want you to be hurt,” the Mage said with a tired expression. “Keep your distance till the murderer has been found,” he ordered in a warm tone.

Simon remained silent. Too many thoughts were running rampant in his head. He couldn’t think.

“I hope that the Pitch boy has nothing to do with it,” the Mage said as he frowned. “I will not detain you any longer. I hope you catch the murderer soo,.” he concluded as he stood up and guided Simon to the door. He clapped Simon’s shoulder and whispered the words “Do be careful, my boy,” into Simon’s ear before turning around.

The door to the office closed with a click. The click echoed loudly in the room and in the empty space of Simon’s head. Everything felt wrong and off-kilter. He did not know what to believe anymore. The Mage had guided him since he was eleven. He was Simon’s mentor and the only father figure he had ever known. Baz was not someone that killed, no matter what the Mage said. Simon had lived with Baz for years. Baz might be an asshole and a vampire, but he would never kill anyone. There was no way Baz would do that.

Simon felt like he was suffocating as the words the Mage said swirled around in his head. Baz’s voice joined in. The word ‘lapdog’ appeared again. With a growl, Simon rammed his head against the door frame. He just wanted a moment of quiet. He needed to get out of this office. He stormed outside. Penny. He needed his best friend, she would know what to do.

On his way home, he probably managed to break at least one speed limit. As he pushed the door open, the comforting scent of home enveloped him.

“You’re back already, Simon?” Penny asked as she raised her head from the old book she was reading on the couch. He flopped down on the couch next to her and threw his arms around her. Penny put her book aside and started to run her fingers through his hair.

“What’s wrong, Si?” Penny asked with a worried frown.

“Everything,” Simon said. His voice was muffled as he spoke into her rainbow coloured sweater. He started to tell her everything, from the conversation with the Mage to his urge to smoother Baz in kisses. She only arched an eyebrow at the latter but let him spill everything.

“How did the Mage know all of this?” Penny asked with a frown.

“I only told you,” Simon said.

“No one else?” Penny asked with a frown. Simon nodded. He had only discussed the case with Penny.

“How did he get this knowledge?” Penny asked with a look of concentration on her face. Simon’s phone interrupted them. It was the police. There had been another dead body. Simon grabbed his jacket and jumped to his feet.

“I gotta go. Dead body!” Simon said as he stumbled out of the door. He did not hear what Penny called after him.

He arrived at the crime scene. It was another back alley, behind a small family-owned restaurant. One of the waitresses had found the body as she stepped outside to take out the trash. It was a boy, no older than sixteen. He looked peaceful as he lay on the cold ground. Someone had covered him with a jacket as if to keep him warm. His neck was littered with bite marks, but there was no sign of a struggle. The word 'sorry' was written over and over again into the dirt. It looked like there were water drops on his face. It had not rained today or the day before. Tears. The killer had cried.

He had died in the same way all the other victims had died. He had been drained as well. Excessive amounts of blood loss led to his death. Simon inspected the crime scene, but there were no other clues. Police were already swarming the scene, yet Simon was the only one that noticed that something was wrong.

He could feel a rumble from the wall. The shadows moved. The stench of sulfur filled the alley. The beast was here. Simon itched to draw his sword, but he did not want to explain himself to the police officers. They were still securing the crime scene. Red eyes glowed before it disappeared like it had never been there. The pressure was gone and the stench of sulfur receded. Simon could breathe again.

  


He needed to talk to Baz. He rushed towards his bike. In his pocket, his phone vibrated, but he ignored it. Cherry roared to life. He reached the club in record time. It was not yet open, but at this time Baz should already be here. His aunt had accompanied him, Simon could see the black Cadillac parked at the curb.

Simon rushed into the club, not caring for the bouncers that tried to stop him. He came to a stop in front of the bar.

“Snow,” Baz said. The surprise that rushed across his features was barely concealed.

“Baz,” Simon breathed out and the words he wanted to say got caught in his throat. Baz looked beautiful beneath the dim light of the club. All elegant charm with an edge of sharpness in the careful tilt of his head. His eyes were like the sharpest silver blades that glimmered beneath the low light. Simon felt his throat go dry.

“Snow?” Baz asked as he tilted his head. It showed off his slender neck. Again that black collar stood starkly against his throat. Simon wanted to bite it and kiss it. At Baz’s look, Simon forcefully pushed the thoughts away. He didn’t want to think about it.

“Have you seen them before?” Simon blurted out. He pulled the pictures of the victims out of his pocket. Baz’s forehead wrinkled in confusion. Simon had the ridiculous urge to smooth out the wrinkles. Baz took the pictures from him with careful fingers. He looked through them slowly.

“I only know her, she is a regular,” Baz said as he pointed at the picture. It was the victim Simon had found the card on.

“Why are you showing me these?” Baz asked with an arched eyebrow.

“All of them are dead,” Simon said as he took the pictures and put them back into his jacket pocket. Baz froze.

“And just why are you asking me about them?” Baz asked as he crossed his arms and leaned against the shelf behind the bar.

“Because one of them had the card of the club, and they all died within a 5 mile radius from here,” Simon summarized. He hoped that he was not fidgeting too obviously.

“She is the only one that frequented the club,” Baz said.

“You didn't see anything suspicious?” Simon asked.

“No,” Baz answered. “How did they die?” Baz asked.

“They were drained. Completely drained of all their blood,” Simon said as he looked at Baz. He could see how all colour slowly drained out of Baz's face as if he was the one slowly being drained.

“Oh, I see,” Baz said with a hollow laugh.

“Baz?” Simon asked carefully.

“And here I thought that you no longer hated me,” Baz said with a sneer. Hurt was shining in his eyes.

“What? No!” Simon protested.

“Don’t lie, Snow,” Baz glared at him. “You only kept coming back to keep an eye on me,” Baz concluded with a sneer.

Simon opened his mouth and promptly let it fall shut again. It was not a lie. He had used the excuse of monitoring Baz to return very often. Even though it was not the real reason.

“Sorry to disappoint, but I am neither a vampire nor your murderer,” Baz snarled. His eyes glinted eerily beneath the dim lights.

“I know!” Simon protested. He tried to reach for Baz over the counter, but Baz flinched away from his touch. Simon let his arm drop. The look of hurt in Baz's face felt like a knife twisting itself into his heart.

“And here I was happy,” Baz said with a bitter laugh that felt like glass shards bleeding him dry.

“Happy?” Simon asked softly.

“Happy that you no longer hated me, no longer saw me as your greatest enemy,” Baz said with a hollow smile.

“Baz,” Simon said his voice drowned out by the loud beat of the music around them.

“Did the Mage tell you that I am responsible?” Baz asked with a blankness that scared Simon.

“Yes, but-” Simon said.

“Of course, ever the faithful lapdog,” Baz sneered with a cold glare. “Wonderful that with one word from him, I become a murderer in your eyes,” Baz said with a self mocking smile.

“That’s not true!” Simon protested, hoping that Baz would believe him. But the cold look in his eyes only seemed to grow harsher. “Keep the Mage out of it!” Simon growled. 

“Ha! You’re so blind. Still such a fool,” Baz said with a disdainful leer.

“Baz!” Simon tried to grab his arm to make Baz look at him and see that he didn’t believe it, that he was no longer hated.

“Don’t touch me!” Baz snarled. Simon froze midmotion. “Snow, it's better if you leave.” Baz said coldly. All the hurt and the pain had disappeared from his face, only a blank mask remained.

“Baz, listen to me!” Simon protested, but before he could get another word out, two large hands grabbed him. The bouncers were standing behind him.

“He is drunk, please escort him outside,” Baz said. His eyes glowed with a strange light for just a moment. The bouncer nodded. No matter how much Simon protested and tried to get out of their hold, they ruthlessly dragged him outside.

The door of the club fell shut with a heavy bang, and Simon felt like it caused a crack to appear in his heart. He hadn’t wanted this to happen. He didn’t want to hurt Baz. Nothing he did turned out right. Screw being the Chosen One. He was nothing more than a disaster. He needed to apologize. But he also knew that Baz would not forgive him. Even if he waited outside the backdoor, Baz would ignore him. He would still walk him home or he would try.

Simon’s phone started to vibrate in his pocket. He had gotten a message from Penny. It only said ‘we need to talk’. With a heavy heart, Simon left the club behind. His mind was a mess, nothing seemed clear cut anymore.

As soon as he stepped through the door, he was greeted by Penny. She was sitting on the couch, staring at a large number of electronics and cables.

“Give me your phone, Si,” Penny said as she held out her hand. With a questioning look, he handed it over.

“What are you doing?” Simon asked in confusion, which turned into alarm. Penny grabbed a screwdriver and pried his phone apart. She took a pair of tweezers and pulled something small and round out. She dumped it in between other small round electronic thingies. Simon also just realized that their TV had been taken apart the same as their laptops. Penny’s phone was also lying on the coffee table without its batteries.

“Why?” Simon asked in confusion.

“We’ve got a lot of bugs in the house,” Penny said with a grimace.

“I didn’t see any,” Simon answered with a confused tilt of his head.

“Not living bugs, I meant listening devices,” Penny said as she indicated to their coffee table. The small heap of round electronic devices that were laying on it were listening devices.

“Someone was spying on us?” Simon asked in alarm.

“Quite clever too. Not using any magical devices made it so that I didn’t notice them with my magic.” Penny sounded almost impressed.

“Who would do something like that?” Simon asked.

“Who knew more than he should have?” Penny said gently.

“He wouldn’t.” Simon shook his head in denial.

“He did. Probably to keep tabs on you,” Penny said as she wrapped her arm around Simon’s shoulder.

“But why?” Simon asked. How many more times was his world supposed to crumble?

“I don’t know,” Penny said with a sigh.

“He knows that Fiona asked me to protect Baz,” Simon said as he took in a sharp breath. “I got into an argument with Baz after I talked to the Mage,” Simon said as he ran a hand over his face.

“What did he say?” Penny asked. Simon told her what happened.

“He did it on purpose,” Penny concluded with a frown.

“He did what on purpose?” Simon asked with a confused frown.

“He made you insecure. He made you doubt Baz,” Penny said as she looked at him with a worried frown.

“Why?” Simon asked as he bit his nails.

“Maybe your friendship threatened his campaign. His prodigy hanging out with his enemy’s heir doesn’t look that good. I don’t know,” Penny said as she pinched the bridge of her nose.

“I’m going to apologize even if Baz ignores me,” Simon said as he got up.

“I found out what the rune stands for,” Penny added.

“What?” Simon asked as he refocused on her.

“It's a rune of the hound of hell. Someone summoned a hellhound at that crime scene,” Penny said.

“When? No one saw anything. None of the injured policemen saw anything, and the cameras also showed nothing,” Simon said with a frown. He had gotten a call from the hospital as soon as the policemen were awake and out of danger. They hadn’t seen anything and only remembered the stench of sulfur and iron.

“An invisibility spell or cloak would do the trick,” Penny said.

“So a mage must have done it. The dark shadow that keeps showing up on the camera footage is a hellhound?” Simon asked with a frown.

“Possibly,” Penny said.

“Damn it,” Simon cursed. “I am going back to the club,” Simon said as he stormed out of the living room. Action suited him so much better than thinking.

“Be careful.” Penny called.

By the time Simon reached the club only half of Baz’s shift had passed. The lock of the backdoor slid open for him, but the door seemed to be blocked from the inside. As if Baz did not want Simon to step foot inside. It felt like a stone had dropped into his stomach. There was no way in hell Baz would forgive him tonight. Now he couldn't even get in. The bouncers would definitely not let him through. Not after they had thrown him out not even three hours earlier. Simon walked towards the entrance of the alleyway and decided to wait.

He waited and waited and became more and more restless. Baz’s shift should have been over thirty minutes ago. Yet he had not come out of the main entrance nor out of the backdoor. Simon’s unease grew when even after an hour there was still no sign of Baz. There was no smell of sulfur.

Simon went up and asked the bouncers if Baz was still inside. They eyed him with clear suspicion but did inform him that he had left right after his shift.

So where the hell was he? Simon was becoming more and more worried. He tried calling Baz’s phone, but there was no answer.

After the fourth time of trying to reach Baz, Simon gave up and shoved his phone back into his pocket.

“Baz!” Simon called as he started to run along the street. He followed the trail Baz would usually walk home. There was no sign of Baz anywhere. Simon kept walking, searching, but he didn’t find him. The lights in Baz’s flat were off, and no matter how much Simon rang the doorbell, no one answered. Simon ran all the way back, shouting Baz’s name. No one answered him. He tried calling Baz again. The phone rang and rang, but no one picked up.

“Baz!” Simon shouted, but only silence answered him. He was standing in the middle of the desolate park. He was panicking. What if that hellhound had gotten to Baz? Damn it. Fear was drowning him. He grabbed his phone and rang Baz one more time. He could hear the faintest sound behind some bushes. Simon rushed forward. In the dirt laid Baz’s sleek black phone. The screen was cracked and looked like a spiderweb of fragments. The screen showed the missed calls from Simon, but also from Fiona and Baz’s father. There was a message from his little sister Mordelia as well. His stepmother seemed to also have left a voice message.

Baz would never leave his phone behind. Something had happened. Dread was settling like lead in Simon’s stomach. With it, guilt planted its seeds and started to grow. Simon shouldn't have left. He should have waited outside the club the whole time. He should not have argued with Baz. The last expression he had seen on Baz’s face was a rage-filled snarl. His grey eyes had blatantly reflected so much hurt. Simon felt his own eyes sting. He hadn’t wanted to hurt Baz. He did not want to hurt him ever. Simon bit his lips and took a shuddering breath.

He wanted to kiss the hurt away. Which was ridiculous. What guy wanted to kiss his former nemesis? He was that ridiculous guy. God, he was a disaster. Baz appeared to be missing and all Simon could think about was kissing his hurt away. Simon wanted to kiss his nose, his sharp cheekbones till the hurt disappeared from his eyes. Kiss his lips. Maybe Simon would never be able to do that now. Maybe he had lost Baz forever. He never had him, but he would never be able to even see him again, to hear his voice and see that arrogant smirk curl his lips. Simon still hadn’t heard him play the violin. Maybe he had gotten even better. He wanted to watch Baz sway with the music, while his graceful hands caressed the most beautiful sounds out of the violin. Maybe those graceful hands lay broken in some alley as grey eyes stared vacantly up into the dark sky. A noise of agony broke from Simon’s lips.

Maybe Baz was safe, maybe he was not hurt. Simon prayed that he was safe. He rubbed his eyes with the back of his sleeve before calling the police department to request access to the newest video footage of the CCTV in the park. Next, he dialed Penny's number. He wished he had Fiona's number as well. Baz’s phone was a wreck and even if the screen was still responsive, he doubted that he could guess Baz’s password. 

Simon tried getting inside the club to tell her but was resolutely thrown out by the bouncers. Frustration was building up and he had the urge to kick something. His hand was shaking as he ran it through his hair. His anxiety level was through the roof and the combination of that with his fear for Baz made a lethal cocktail. Before he could do something stupid, he rushed home. Penny was his rock. He fell apart in her waiting arms. He didn’t know how many tears he shed.

He spent the night with his head in Penny’s lap as she tried to calm him down and research at the same time. By the time morning rolled around, both of their eyes were red. Penny’s from her lack of sleep and Simon’s from his repeated sniffling (and from lack of sleep).

The shrill sound of his phone’s ringtone ripped him from the haze that had settled over his mind. The number of the police department was displayed in bold letters. The dread Simon had felt last night came back a hundredfold.

“Good morning,” Simon answered, the anxiety in his voice barely concealed. As he listened to the other person speak he became whiter and whiter. “I will be right there,” Simon said before he hung up. “There has been another body,” Simon said as he took a deep breath. Penny could clearly see the fear displayed in his eyes.

“It doesn’t have to be Baz,” Penny said as she reassuringly laid a hand on his shoulder.

“But what if it is?” Simon asked in a small voice. Penny was starkly reminded of an eleven-year-old boy with eyes too big and a body far too skinny, looking around the Watford school of magic with awe and fear in his eyes. He had asked her to be his friend in a voice just as small. Penny did not know what to say, so she reached out and pulled him into a bone-crushing hug.

“I will come with you,” Penny said decisively.

“They won’t let you onto the crime scene,” Simon said with a muffled voice.

“No matter. I will just wait on the other side of the tape,” Penny said. Simon nodded.

Together they left the flat. Penny kept shooting worried glances towards Simon but kept silent. She just hoped that her presence was enough to ground him in the here and now. She did not want Simon to disassociate. Once Simon had retreated inside himself, he was just gone. It could be minutes or hours.

By the time they reached the crime scene Simon’s hands were shaking. He took a deep breath and stepped towards the yellow tape. The place was swarmed by police. Simon could see blood spatters even without crossing the tape. There was blood everywhere. It looked completely different from the scenes before.

There was no ‘sorry’ written in the dirt, there was only blood. As Simon stepped around the corner and looked at the dead body half-hidden behind a dumpster Simon froze. He knew those clothes, he knew those empty eyes. Simon stumbled backward. He ran away from the scene and emptied his stomach on the curb near the street. He heaved and heaved till nothing but bile came out of his mouth. Penny was by his side in a heartbeat. She watched him with wide eyes.

“Baz,” Simon managed to get out before the tears started to stream down his cheeks. He collapsed on the sidewalk.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> .... sorry?


	7. On the Stone upon the Grave

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for the comments and kudos ~  
> It was a horrific cliffhanger and I'm sorry  
> yet at the same time, your reactions and comments made my day (≧∇≦)/

Simon wrapped his arms around his knees as he took heaving breaths. Salt and bile were the only things he tasted. Everything was blurry. Penny wrapped her arms around him. After a while, his sobs stopped and an eerie silence took its place. Penny helped him get up, but it was as if he wasn’t there. He stood there like a marionette with all of its strings cut.

He would never see Baz again. Only a dead body ripped apart by claws and smeared with blood remained. It felt like Simon’s heart was bleeding out as well. It hurt. Everything hurt. He would never see those twinkling grey eyes again. Never hear that posh voice mock him in the only way Baz could. There would be no more arched eyebrows and artful sneers. No snarls and smirks. No more rare real smiles with perfect lips. Simon had never gotten to even steal a simple cheek kiss. Nothing. He had nothing of Baz. Nothing more than his phone. Simon stared at the phone in his hand. Someone needed to call Baz’s family. Fiona would kill him. He would welcome it. He handed the phone to Penny without words, yet she understood him.

Simon’s world had lost a spark of colour he didn’t even realize it had. Baz had been an integral part of his world and now it seemed so dull and colourless. He was standing there in a daze. Everything seemed dull and hazy. His own heartbeat seemed slower than normal. It felt like he was underwater. Drowning in tears of sorrow he could not shed. Raindrops started to fall, like the sky itself was crying.

Penny was talking to him, but the words made no sense. He couldn’t hear her. It was as if his ears were filled with water. He looked at her. His eyes couldn’t focus on her. She was a blur.

“Fiona.” The name was the only sound he could identify. As soon as the words were spoken, screeching of tires could be heard. The next thing he knew, Fiona Pitch was standing in front of him with her arms crossed. Her glare alone already signified that he would find himself dead at the bottom of the river. He would not stop her. He deserved it. Fiona reached forward as if to drag him. Simon closed his eyes expecting a punch that never game. Instead Fiona wrapped her hands around the silver cross hanging around his neck. She ripped it off with a yank that almost caused him to lose his balance. Penny steadied him at the last moment.

Fiona stalked towards the crime scene, the cross tightly enclosed in her fist. Simon watched her go with a blank expression. A second car came to a stop beside Fiona's. A luxurious vintage model Simon had only seen in movies. A man stepped out, tall with an arrogant bearing. His hair, once as dark as his son’s, was almost completely white. He wore it slicked back, in the same style Baz used to wear during their school days. He looked at Simon with disdain before ignoring him and walking towards the crime scene. The passenger door opened and a young girl stepped out. Piercing eyes zeroed in on Simon and a sneer was on her lips. She looked way too much like Baz to not be his sister. She was wearing what would best be described as a gothic lolita outfit. Skulls and cute bows were a weird combination, but it suited her.

“So you’re Snow,” she said as she stepped forward. She looked him up and down. The judging stare was the same as her brother’s. Simon clenched his eyes shut against a fresh wave of pain. “Bunce,” she acknowledged with a cold look towards Penny. She turned her harsh gaze back onto Simon. "You look even stupider than my brother said," she said with a disdainful look.

Simon did not react. He only kept staring off into space in a daze. Baz’s sister huffed in annoyance. The rain slowly started to become heavier.

"Do you only react when my brother insults you?" she asked. There was almost a whine in her tone. She seemed strangely disappointed that she could not rile him up.

"What?" Simon managed to croak.

"Baz will have to show me,” she said with a disappointed sigh.

"Your brother is dead" Simon’s voice cracked on the last word. His sister rolled her eyes.

“You should watch what aunt Fiona is doing,” she said with a mysterious smirk as she skipped towards the crime scene. Her brother was dead and yet she seemed unconcerned. 

Simon trailed after her. He did not know what else to do. He did not want to see Baz’s dead body again. And yet he moved closer. Just in time to see Fiona press the cross onto Baz’s chest. The police officers around her tried to stop her, but she kicked them away with ease. Baz’s father was holding the chief back.

“It’s not Baz,” his sister said from beside Simon. She had pulled a black umbrella with lace and ruffles out of seemingly nowhere. Simon did not care that he was being drenched by the rain.

“What?” Simon asked in a daze.

  


“Did you not listen? That dead body is not Baz,” she said again.

“How do you know that?” Simon asked as a glimmer of hope sparked to life.

“Magic, Chosen One. Every family member has a portrait in our house. It greys out as soon as the person in the photo has died,” she said with a shrug.

“He is alive?” Simon asked with wide eyes. Penny squeezed his shoulder, for once remaining silent. Her keen eyes were looking at Mordelia, searching for a lie. 

“Yeah, that there is just a very good fake. Very good. I wonder what they used to change its appearance,” she mused as she watched the body with curious eyes. “Maybe father will let me take a look at it,” she said as she twirled her umbrella.

Malcom Grimm, Baz’s father, was talking to the police officer. He had drawn his wand and seemed to be muttering a spell. Fiona had gotten up from her kneeling position. She was now stalking towards Simon with a murderous scowl, yet Simon hardly noticed. Baz was alive. He was alive somewhere.

Whatever else he had wanted to think about was interrupted by the stinging pain in his cheek. Fiona had slapped him. He had deserved that. Penny glared at her, and before she could open her mouth, Fiona started to speak. 

“That is for not keeping your promise to keep him safe,” Fiona said with a huff. She turned towards Baz’s sister.

“Mordelia, call your mother. Please keep your father from wringing the police officer's neck. I’ve got business with Snow,” Fiona said.

“Can I look at the body?” Mordelia asked with an eager expression.

“Ask your father,” Fiona said as she pushed the task onto Malcom without remorse. She took a hold of Simon’s collar and dragged him towards a desolate corner. Penny followed in silence.

“I’m sorry,” Simon said as he bit his lip.

“Sorry doesn’t cut it, boy,” Fiona said with a glare.

“I know,” Simon said. “He is alive,” Simon muttered and couldn’t help the smile that broke across his features. He felt giddy and elated. Baz was alive. He leaned against Penny. His body almost felt drained from relief. Her presence was a comfort. 

“Yes, you will help me find him,” Fiona said as she tapped her foot with impatience.

“We will help,” Penny said as she stepped forward. Her gaze was flinty and calculating as she looked at Fiona. 

“Two and a half brains is better than one and a half,” Fiona said with a smirk. Simon wanted to protest but decided to keep his mouth shut. He was already on thin enough ice with Fiona.

“Where did you find his phone, Si?” Penny asked with a frown.

“At the park, near the club.” Simon said. They made their way towards the car. The words ‘he is alive’ kept spinning in his head. He held onto them like a lifeline. Baz was alive. He had to stay alive. They would find him and save him. Simon would be able to look into these eyes again.

They reached the park in record time. Fiona's driving style was more than reckless. Simon felt it was ridiculous that Baz had questioned his driving ability. His aunt was a maniac on the street. Simon showed them where he found the phone. The faintest trace of sulfur still hung in the air.

Fiona and Penny used spell after spell, but the only thing that was revealed was that Baz had been here. They also found his taser lying in one of the bushes. It was half melted. 

“Stupid boy,” Fiona said as she saw it lying among the dirt and gravel.

There were clear signs of a struggle. There were scratch marks on the bark of the tree. A few splatters of blood were on the leaves of one of the larger leaved bushes. They did not find anything else. It was as if Baz had disappeared into thin air after the struggle. There was no sign of drag marks anywhere. They returned to Baz and Fiona’s apartment.

“I found a map,” Penny said as she unrolled a map of the whole city on the coffee table. Every street, every small alleyway was drawn on the map. Each river and stream clearly shown on this piece of paper.

**“Come out, come out wherever you are!”** Fiona pointed at the map with her wand. Sparks flew everywhere, but nothing happened. She frowned and fired off another spell with the same result; nothing was shown on the map.

**“Lost in life, found in the stars!”** Penny waved her wand. Nothing appeared. She frowned and pulled out a vial from her pocket.

“Do you have something of Baz’s? Blood, hair?” Penny asked. Fiona nodded before getting up to grab Baz’s brush from his bathroom.

“What potion is that?” Simon asked as he finally lifted his gaze from the map. His hands were clenched into fists. He wanted to burst out there and find Baz right now.

“A tracking potion. It was the one I found in the old book,” Penny said. She took the brush from Fiona's hand and pulled out the black hair. She dumped them in the vial. The colour changed from dark silver to deep dark red. She shook the vial a few times before unscrewing the cork and dumping the contents on the map. It sizzled before it started to spread out on the map. The northern edge of the town was covered in the red stuff.

“Damn it, the changed ingredients changed the potency,” Penny said with a frustrated huff.

“At least it’s showing us the area he could be in,” Simon said with a hopeful look.

“Still, it's too large to completely cover the ground tonight,” Fiona said with a frustrated growl.

“A pendulum might help to narrow it down even further.” Penny mused.

“I doubt that it will do that on the map,” Fiona said with a frown.

“No, I mean searching for Baz in that area with a pendulum might work,” Penny said as she tapped her chin. Simon watched them silently. He felt useless. He wanted to do something, instead he could not do a thing.

“Do you have a pendulum?” Simon asked as he turned towards Fiona.

“No, we have one in the Pitch estate,” Fiona said. Driving there would take forever. Teleportation over such a long distance was impossible.

“I don’t have one either. The last one got lost in an experiment gone wrong. We need a crystal one that's good for channeling magic,” Penny said with a frown.

“I will go to the store tomorrow morning,” Fiona said with a scowl. It pissed her off that they could not do it right this very moment. She had no issue breaking into a store and stealing one, but she doubted that the golden boy would go along with it. Also the only one selling crystal pendulums was owned by an ogre. It would be a pain to fight that one. Had Daphne not promised that Baz’s portrait was still normal, she would have gone out to try and find him on her own. Fiona stood up and grabbed a bottle of whiskey.

“The guest room is at the end of the hallway,” Fiona said before she opened the balcony door with a bang. Soon the smoke of a cigarette was rising.

“Come on, we need rest or else we will be of no help to Baz,” Penny said as she pushed Simon towards the guest room. There were two separate single beds in the room. The bed covers were dark black. On top of the covers, a basket with toiletries sat.

They switched the lights off. The room was plunged into darkness. Simon kept staring at the ceiling. He turned to look sideways. Penny had already fallen asleep. Unlike her, he could just not fall asleep, no matter how much he tossed and turned. He felt like he was vibrating out of his skin. With a frustrated noise, he threw his covers aside.

As quietly as possible he tiptoed out of the room. Maybe some fresh air would help. He stepped out on the balcony. Fiona had disappeared somewhere. Only an empty bottle of whiskey still stood on the little metal table in the center of the balcony. A filled ashtray stood next to it.

Simon looked out at the vast city of Watford as it lay sprawled beneath him. Somewhere out there was Baz. In pain, all alone and feeling so, so cold. They would find him. They would bring him home. Simon swore it deep in his heart.

He returned inside. As he walked back towards the guest bedroom he noticed that one of the doors in the hallway was ajar. Curiosity led him to gently push it open all the way. It was a bedroom, and the faintest trace of cedar and bergamot hung in the air. Baz’s bedroom. Everything was neat and tidy, there was no clutter. The dark bookshelf was filled with books of all shapes and sizes. A stand with sheet music stood in the corner. His desk was neatly arranged with his laptop at the center. His bed was a large king size and the closet was at least double the size of Simon’s own. Hell, it might be even bigger than Agatha’s, which Simon had thought was not possible. On his bed, there was a pillow that seemed to be made out of a Watford school uniform. The crest was proudly displayed. It was a brilliant idea, but Simon had sadly lost the jumper with the big Watford crest back in sixth year. He didn’t know why, but he walked forward and picked the pillow up. It made him smile. Baz had loved the school of Watford just as much as Simon had. He let himself drop onto Baz’s bed. He knew that it was highly inappropriate, but it soothed his jittery nerves. Alone the thought of Baz residing in the space let a wave of calmness wash over him. He burrowed his head in Baz’s blanket and for a moment imagined that Baz was right beside him. That he was not hugging a pillow, but the real Baz. Baz’s scent lingered in the fabric.. A smile spread across Simon’s lips. He fell asleep with that smile still gracing his lips. His dreams were filled with happiness. When the first rays of sun hit him and he woke up, the happiness from the dream became bittersweet with the realization that Baz was not here.

“Slept well, Snow?” a voice drawled from behind him. With a startled yelp Simon sat up.

“It’s not- … I didn’t!” Simon said as he tried to quickly get up. He stumbled and tumbled and crashed onto the floor. Fiona snorted at his undignified display.

“Breakfast is on the table,” Fiona said before she left the doorway and walked towards the kitchen. Simon quickly got to his feet. He hoped that the blush that had overtaken his whole face would disappear soon. This was worse than being found in the broom closet in only his underwear after he had lost a bet in seventh year.

“After you’re done eating we will head out.” Fiona said. She pulled a brand new pendulum from out of her pocket. It was crystal clear and shimmered in the kitchen light. Simon wolfed down his breakfast, ignoring the look of disgust on Fiona’s face. It reminded him of Baz’s own exasperation with his, as Baz called them, atrocious eating habits. As soon as their plates were cleared Fiona whisked them away. Simon regretted eating such an indulgent breakfast. Fiona’s driving style made it so that he almost threw up all of his stomach contents. He felt blessed when he finally had stable ground beneath his feet. Penny seemed to be sharing his sentiment.

“Tch, weaklings,” Fiona said before she pulled out the pendulum. One had to push their magic into the pendulum and ask a question. Either it would answer you with ‘true’ or ‘false’. In their case it would point them in the direction of Baz.

**“Lead me to Tyrannus Basilton Grimm-Pitch,”** Fiona said as the pendulum flared up with her magical power. A red sheen appeared over the stone as it started to rise. Its pointy end showed them the way.

After just a short while they realized that the pendulum was leading them in circles. Fiona let out a noise of frustration. Whoever had taken Baz had made sure that he was almost impossible to find via magical means.

“Let me try,” Penny said as she took the pendulum. She asked her question and the pendulum shimmerd blue with her magic. Again it led them in circles.

“Snow, you have a ridiculous amount of magical power. You try,” Fiona said as she pushed the pendulum into Simon’s hands.

“I cannot even do a first year spell, Fiona,” Simon said in protest.

“Just try, Si,” Penny said. Simon closed his eyes and took a deep breath and tried to channel his magical power into the pendulum. Nothing happened.

“See?” Simon said with a disappointed shrug.

“Try again,” Fiona said. With a sigh he closed his eyes again.

“Imagine a small spark landing in a hearth. That spark grows into an ember, slowly growing into a flame and finally it’s a fire so burning hot. Feel that fire and slowly push it along that chain and into the stone,” Fiona said. Simon took a deep breath and slowly imagined the flame. “It’s like lighting a match,” Fiona added.

The pendulum slowly rose. A black aura surrounded it. Like dark fog. A crack appeared in the stone. Still it showed the way in a completely different direction than where it had led Penny and Fiona.

“It’s working, Si!” Penny said with a grin. A disbelieving smile was all that Simon managed to say. It was the first time since forever that he had managed anything even remotely magical. They rushed to follow the pendulum. Fiona eyed the black fog. There had never before been a mage whose magical power was black and produced smoke as if it had to breathe off the excess. Something was strange about Snow’s magic.

The pendulum led them to a seemingly empty lot between two old townhouses.

“There is nothing there,” Simon said, the disappointment clearly shown on his face.

“Just because we cannot see it doesn’t mean that there is nothing there,” Penny said as she drew her wand.

**“Come out, come out wherever you are!”** Penny shouted. A ripple ran through the air. Like a mirage above hot asphalt when the sun burnt. It returned to normal, like nothing had ever been done to it.

“Let’s try it together,” Fiona said as she drew her wand.

“On three,” Penny said with a nod.

“One,” Fiona raised her wand high.

“Two,” Penny joined her.

“Three,” both of them said.

**“COME OUT, COME OUT WHEREVER YOU ARE!”** they shouted together. For a moment their wands sparked with light. It sounded like someone was tearing fabric apart. The illusion of the empty field was ripped apart like a piece of tissue.

What was once an empty field was empty no longer. In its place a church stood. An abandoned church. The once beautiful glass-stained windows were broken. Wooden planks were nailed on the doors. Half of its roof was missing. Stones of the walls were lying scattered in the overgrown grass. The iron gate was rusted and the door to the church stood wide open. Fog surrounded it, even though it was bright daylight. It reeked of sulfur and decay.


	8. Told the Story of the Brave

“Baz, in a church,” Fiona muttered under her breath. She shook her head in disbelief. Baz was unable to step even a foot into a church. It burned him. Just as the cross around Snow’s neck would burn him. He would be in pain. They needed to get him out of there.

Fiona walked forward and with one solid kick the iron gate gave away beneath her boots.

“Let’s go,” she said as she stomped forward. Simon followed with his sword drawn, Penny hot on his heels.

With a blast of magic, the doors splintered apart. Inside the church, the scent of sulfur was even heavier. The pews lay scattered and broken among the church floor. The altar was empty. The cross behind it lay on the ground in splinters.

“There is a way downstairs,” Penny shouted. The tip of her wand was alight. A pair of stone stairs seemed to lead into endless darkness.

“I will go first,” Fiona said as she lit her wand. As they slowly descended down the stairs, the stench was getting heavier and heavier. They had to hold a hand over their mouths. Simon had never before realized just how nauseating the stench of sulfur could be. Simon took a step forward and something crunched beneath his boots. As he looked down, he realized that he had stepped on a skeletal hand. It looked tiny. Like the hand of a child.

“Penny, I need light,” Simon said in a hushed whisper. Dread was settling in his stomach. Penny stepped closer and the light of her wand became stronger and stronger. Simon felt sick at the sight it revealed. Bones upon bones, skulls upon skulls, skeletons upon skeletons lay discarded in a corner. Most of them seemed so young. None of them were adults. Children. These were the remains of children.

“Oh god,” Penny whispered. Her whole face was as white as the bones that lay there. Rats were climbing over the remains and gnawing at them. Simon had to look away. Fiona closed her eyes in pain.

“We need to move on,” Fiona said. With heavy hearts they turned away. The remains were once again bathed in darkness, but not forgotten. Never to be forgotten again.

The hallway seemed to go on endlessly till they finally stepped into a large, round room. With a wave of Fiona’s wand the torches on the wall burst into flame. A gigantic pentagram was drawn on the ground. Blood was used as the ink and it was outlined by bones. Black candles stood in each corner. What was in the center caused Simon to nearly gag. It was a head with nails driven into it. The eyes and mouth were sutured shut. A pool of blood was beneath it. It was not Baz, but the thought brought little relief. Simon had to look away. Runes were smeared along the walls. The whole place was filled with the remains of demonic energy. It made his skin prickle.

A desk filled with books and papers stood near the corridor. Black ink dripped onto the floor. Fiona walked over to it and grabbed one of the books. She skimmed through it, her expression darkening with each page she flipped. Her knuckles turned white from how hard she gripped it. On the far, wall three coffins stood. Beneath one a pool of blood lay. It kept dripping out of the closed coffin lid.

Fear consumed Simon’s mind. Oh please, don’t let it be Baz. He rushed forward and wrenched the coffin door open. Inside lay a headless body drenched in blood. The scent of blood and decay was thick in the air. Simon took a stumbling step backwards. He steeled himself and opened the next coffin. It was empty. The mix of disappointment and relief was heady.

He tried to pry open the third coffin, but it was locked. No matter how much he tried, the lid would not budge.

“Penny, Fiona!” he called as his blade was repelled from the lock. He had tried to crush it with little success.

**“Open sesame!”** Penny shouted, and Simon immediately pushed open the lid as soon as he heard the lock break open.

“Baz.” The name left Simon’s lips like a reverent prayer. Baz was laying in the coffin and his skin was as pale as snow. His hands were bloody. Fingernails ruined from his attempts to get out of the coffin. With trembling fingers, Simon reached out, trying to find a pulse along that slender neck. For a moment he couldn’t find it and it felt like his own heart would stop. He bit his lip and tried again. Against the tips of his fingers, a pulse fluttered like a hummingbird.

“Thank god,” he breathed and rested his forehead against Baz’s own. Baz did not respond; he remained unconscious.

“Get him out of there,” Fiona ordered. Simon pulled Baz out and gently laid him on the floor.

**“Get well soon!”** Fiona fired one healing spell after the other. Slowly, the visible wounds healed, but Baz still didn't wake up.

Only now Simon noticed something that had not been there before. Between Baz’s raven hair that was covered in dirt and dust, two small horns peeked out. They were as black as his hair. Beneath the torch light Simon could make out a shimmer of dark silver. Without thinking, he reached out and lightly touched one of them. They were solid and real beneath his fingers. At his touch, Baz let out the barest of sounds. A tremor went through his body, but he still did not open his eyes. Now that Simon noticed the horns, he could not help but notice the slim black tail that lay limp on the ground. The end was pointy and almost had the shape of a heart.

“What?” Simon uttered, stupefied at the sight. Even with the demonic signs, Baz still didn’t exude the smell of sulfur, nor did Simon’s runes react.

“His glamour broke,” Fiona said matter of factly as she started to search him for further injuries.

“Baz is a demon?” Simon asked, his world once again being turned upside down. Again. Baz couldn’t be a demon. Demons were otherworldly, malicious, powerful and more often than not saw humans as nothing more than playthings. Baz’s beauty was otherworldly at times and he could be quite malicious, but underneath his harsh exterior, Baz was kind. So very kind and sad.

“Does it change anything?” Fiona asked as she looked up and stared straight into Simon’s soul. “Will it make you leave him here?” she asked as she spread out her arms.

“No!” Simon protested. There was no way he would leave Baz here. No way. Baz was Baz. No wonder he had denied when Simon had called him a vampire.

“He was not always a demon, wasn’t he?” Penny asked. She pulled her wand out and, with a soft glow, she moved it over his body. She was magically scanning Baz for any injury they might have missed to have caused him to remain unconscious.

“Clever, clever witch,” Fiona said with a smirk.

Before Penny could ask another question, an eerie sound echoed across the hall, like the scraping of claws along stones.

“We need to leave,” Fiona said as she grabbed the book from the desk. Simon leaned down and picked up Baz. With a frown, he noted that Baz was far lighter than he had expected. With hurried footsteps, they walked along the hallway, not yet running. A grumble resounded and, with a crash, a stone from the ceiling landed in their path.

“Damn it, not good,” Penny cursed as she summoned a shield to protect them from more falling debris. The whole place was collapsing around them. Fiona drew her wand.

**“The road goes ever on and on!”** She shouted and the path before them lit up. It was a powerful spell, if quite draining. Tolkien was always wonderful. They ran along the path. As long as they stayed on it no harm would come to them. Even with the noise of collapsing stone, Baz showed no sign of waking up. It was as if he was a sleeping beauty. As they ran, Simon wondered whether only true love’s kiss would wake him.

A growl could be heard behind them. Simon looked over his shoulder. A hellhound was hot on their heels.

“We need to get back up into the church ground,” Fiona shouted. Her magic was slowly being drained. Keeping the Tolkien spell up was like having a blood-sucking leech biting your arm.

**“Something wicked this way comes!”** Penny shouted as she pointed her wand over her shoulder towards the hellhound. A blade of light glinting with a wickedly sharp edge rushed towards the hellhound. They kept on running without looking back. The yelp of pain followed by an angry growl seemed to indicate that the spell had hit its mark.

They finally reached the stairs and ran up. The daylight blinded them for a moment. They were back on the surface. The hellhound didn’t follow them up. With a rumble, stones from the wall of the church crumbled and crashed into the staircase. No one would be able to use them to get down there now. The underground atrocities were buried.

Even on the way home, Baz remained unconscious. Only the faintest touch to his horns or his tail elicited any kind of reaction. Simon gently placed Baz in his bed. Fiona changed him into his pajamas before wrapping him in his blanket. Simon pushed the chair of Baz’s desk next to his bed and collapsed into it.

“We will be in the living room, Si,” Penny said as she watched him with a worried frown. “Join us if you need anything,” she said before she left the room. Simon nodded, but could not tear his gaze away from Baz’s pale face.

Baz was always pale, but never this pale. It worried Simon. Even though they had found him, the feeling of worry and dread was not going away. There was no way he would let Baz out of his sight.

He could distantly hear Fiona calling Baz’s father before she and Penny started talking. He could hear their conversation through the open bedroom door. He got up and was about to close it when he stopped and listened.

“When did Baz become a demon?” Penny asked.

“When he was six,” Fiona said flatly. A child. Baz had been nothing more than a child.

“How? There is no record that it is possible for a human to become a demon.”

“Natasha Pitch did not stop for the impossible,” Fiona said. Her smirk was audible.

“His mother turned him into a demon?” The faintest trace of judgment was in Penny’s voice.

“He would have died,” Fiona snarled. “Vampires attacked the nursery. Baz was bitten, the bite didn’t take,” Fiona said with a sigh.

“She saved him.”

“Killed every one of the vampires. Set them all on fire, before summoning a demon and using her soul and vampire ash to make a deal,” Fiona grimly said.

“How did she know how to do it? Demonology has been forbidden since the fourteenth century,” Penny asked, intrigued.

“Our ancestors dabbled in it and sealed their records in the Pitch home. Curiosity got the best of Natasha and I, we read all of them,” Fiona said with an edge of pride. “Wasn’t very legal,” Fiona added as she took a gulp of her drink. Probably whiskey. “So don’t tell anyone, or who knows what might drag you to hell.” Fiona’s words held a wicked promise.

Simon closed the door and turned around towards Baz. It must have been wonderful to be so loved by a parent, and even more tragic to have lost them. Simon had never known a mother’s love. Nor a father’s. The one he had thought of as a father figure was becoming someone he did not know. The bugs in his rooms made the hairs on his body stand up in eerie unease.

He walked back towards Baz’s side and watched him sleep. Baz looked so frail. Like a simple wind gust could break his bones, even though Baz was one of the strongest people Simon knew. For some reason, he reached out and took Baz’s hand. It was so so cold. He took it between both of his and started to gently blow hot air onto it, hoping to bring at least a little bit of warmth into the cold fingertips. It felt like he was holding icicles between his hands.

No matter the number of blankets, Baz still seemed to shiver beneath them. Simon reached out and took his other hand, gently warming it up. He just hoped that Baz would wake up soon. He wanted to see those beautiful eyes open again. He wanted those bloodless lips to smirk at him. Sneer in a way that irked him so, but was as familiar as home would ever be. Baz had always been part of his home. Each year Simon had returned to school, Baz was the constant that was always there when he opened the door to their room. He was always there. Simon had never realized how he had missed Baz after he had dropped out of school. He had missed their arguments and their constant bickering. He had missed the smell of cedar and bergamot. He missed the feeling of having someone near after waking from a nightmare. Living with Penny was not the same. He had always envisioned it as being so much better than living with Baz, but that was not true. He loved living with Penny and in a strange way, he seemed to have loved living with Baz as well. Both of them saw him. For his good and his bad. He was not just another number in an orphanage. They saw him.

In a way, that had made him happy. Baz had seen him. He might have only seen the bad but he saw him. At some point, one became a nameless child taken from care home to care home. Nothing more than unnecessary baggage. They never saw you, they only saw you as another tragedy to fix. They only saw the broken pieces and treated him as if he would break apart with the slightest touch. Penny loved him with all his disastrous bits and Baz never touched him with kids gloves as if he was breakable. Baz told him bluntly to his face when he was a disaster, when he was an idiot and when he was a menace. Baz never minced his words. Back then Simon had hated him, and now nothing could be farther from the truth.

The urge to reach out and kiss Baz had not lessened, instead it had grown stronger. He wanted to touch Baz so badly. Holding his hand was not enough. Simon wanted more. It scared him. Never before did he have the urge to touch someone that badly. He wanted to touch Baz’s heart, wanted to feel it beat all around him and make himself a little home within his chest. 

He wondered when his feeling of dislike and even hate had changed. Now those feelings seemed like a distant fog. There, but never touchable. Instead, he was standing in a meadow of newly sprouted feelings that seemed to grow steadily towards the sun. He raised Baz’s hand and lightly kissed it.

“Wake up, please Baz,” Simon whispered softly. He stayed by Baz’s side as night fell and the room was bathed in darkness. Penny knocked on the door and asked him if he would go to bed. At the shake of his head, she tried to persuade him, but gave up after she saw the stubborn jut of his chin. She told him that she would go back to their flat and return in the morning. Fiona kicked him out at one point to talk to her nephew on her own. Simon showered in that time, but it felt like ants were crawling beneath his skin as he was away from Baz. He had never before taken a shower at that speed.

When he returned to Baz’s bedside nothing had changed. He retook his seat beside Baz and continued the silent vigil. At some point, Simon’s eyes started to slowly fall closed. He fell into a slumber filled with nightmarish shadows haunting his dreams.

The sound of glass breaking ripped him out of his slumber. He had drawn his sword before he was even aware of what happened. Baz’s bed was empty. With wide eyes, he looked around the room. Baz was no longer in it. He ripped open the door and stumbled into the hallway. In the living room, a broken glass lay on the floor.

Baz was slowly walking towards the front door.

“Baz!” Simon called, but he showed no reaction. Simon rushed forward and grabbed a hold of his shoulder. He whirled Baz around. Empty eyes stared at him. It was as if Baz was not there. He struggled against Simon’s hold and tried to continue his way towards the front door.

“Stop it, Baz,” Simon said as he wrapped his arms around him to hold him back. Baz only kept on struggling. “Wake up!” Simon shouted, but Baz remained in his trance-like state. His only goal seemed to be to walk out that front door.

“What is going on?” Fiona snarled as she stomped into the living room. A black bathrobe was tightly wrapped around her.

“He is not listening!” Simon said in distress as he hugged Baz tightly to stop him from leaving. Baz’s nails split Simon’s skin as he tried to get out of his hold. No sound left his lips. Fiona stepped forward and grabbed ahold of his chin. She tilted his head up. Empty eyes looked at her.

“Damn it!” Fiona cursed.

“What is happening?” Simon said in distress as he grabbed a hold of Baz’s wrist to stop him from scratching.

“Get him back into the room. Someone put him in a trance,” Fiona hissed as she rushed to her bedroom.

Somehow Simon managed to drag Baz backwards. Even though Baz was still taller than him, Simon had gained more muscle in comparison. He pushed Baz backwards till he hit the edge of the bed. Both of them tumbled onto the comforter. Simon grabbed a hold of Baz wrists and pinned them above his head. He sat down onto Baz’s thighs. No matter how much Baz struggled beneath him, he did not manage to get out of Simon’s hold.

Fiona returned to the room with her wand tightly clasped. She had a suspicion, but she hoped that she was wrong. She prayed for it to not be true.

“I can’t hold him much longer,” Simon said through gritted teeth. Baz was putting up a hell of a fight. He kept struggling against his hold. Simon felt strained as he kept Baz’s arms in his tight grip.

**“Stay where you are! Lock and key!”** Fiona said and a pair of cuffs wrapped around Baz’s wrist. They securely locked him to the headboard. Simon ignored the niggling thought that Baz looked good tied up. Instead, a sigh of relief left him and he slumped. Only to get a kick in the back from one of Baz’s flailing legs. Simon fell off the bed.

“Ouch,” Simon grumbled as he rubbed his back. This would make a nice bruise the coming morning.

**“Stand your ground!”** Fiona said and Baz’s ankles were locked in cuffs as well and secured to the edges of the bed. Simon gulped. Baz looked like a sacrifice laid out to be eaten. Simon shook his head. Now was not the time for this.

Fiona stepped forward and undid the silk pajama top Baz was wearing. His skin was pale underneath it.

**“Show your true colours!”** Fiona whispered and gently waved her wand. At first nothing happened, but then slowly something started to move beneath Baz’s skin. Like something was slithering beneath it. It broke through his skin and runes in blood rose to the surface. They were wrapped around his chest and heart. The sick scent of sulfur mixed with blood rose in the air.

  


“Fuck!” Fiona let out a string of curses.

“What is that?” Simon asked. The sight made him sick. It looked so wrong.

“That fucker bound him!” Fiona shouted. The look in her eyes was wild and enraged.

“What?” Simon said as he felt all air leave his lungs. This did not sound good.

“Binding a demon makes them do whatever their master tells them to do,” Fiona hissed.  
“Damn it, Baz! I told you to bloody feed!” Fiona growled as she ran a hand through her hair, leaving it in even more disarray

“What do you mean?” Simon said with an agitated tremble to his voice. Fear was clawing its way up his throat. 

“If the binding spell remains, we will lose Baz!” Fiona hissed as she ran her finger along the runes engraved into the skin.

“Lose him how?” Simon said. He had thought that it was over, that Baz was safe. A pit of dread opened up within him.

“He will lose himself and turn into a puppet that does whatever his master bids him to do,” Fiona said with a snarl.

“How do we stop it?” Simon exclaimed.

“I don’t know!” Fiona shouted. Her face was filled with rage and distress. “It was years ago that I looked at the old scriptures!” Fiona snarled as she started pacing up and down the room. “If only that stupid boy had not refused to eat,” Fiona said.

“What difference would it have made?” Simon asked as he watched Baz struggle against the bindings.

“He would not be starving for once!” Fiona hissed before she managed to regain her composure. “He would not have been so weak that a binding spell would have that much control over him!” Fiona stated as she ran a hand through her hair.

“If we feed him, would the binding lessen?” Simon asked with a hopeful look.

“Ha! Do you know what kind of demon Baz is?” Fiona said with a smirk. Simon mutely shook his head. “An incubus. He needs to feed on sexual energy,” Fiona said with a growl.

“He is what?” Simon managed to stutter out.

“A sex demon. A virginal sex demon,” Fiona said with a roll of her eyes. Simon flushed bright red.

Fiona took a deep breath before making her decision.

“Keep watch over him. I am going to figure this out.” She would go to the Pitch home and read through all the scriptures.

“Take Penny with you,” Simon said.

“Why should I trust her with our family’s secrets?” Fiona sneered.

“She is a clever witch, as you yourself said. Her help would make this so much faster,” Simon argued with a calm expression. “And do it for him,” Simon softly said. He nodded towards Baz who was tossing his head from side to side as he fought against the cuffs holding him in place.

Fiona nodded before disappearing in a cloud of red dust. Simon coughed and turned his head away. His gaze returned towards Baz who was still trying to get out.

“It will be alright,” Simon said as he gently brushed a lock of sweat-slicked hair aside. He didn’t know if he had said the words for his own benefit or for Baz’s.

Watching Baz struggle against the cuffs was hard. It broke a piece of Simon’s heart to see it. Baz’s wrists and ankles were being chafed raw. Simon grabbed the next best thing, tissues, and stuffed them between his skin and the cuffs. He hoped that it would stop the chafing at least a little bit.

At some point it became unbearable, and Simon reacted purely on instinct. He leaned over Baz and took a hold of his chin. Simon did not know if this would work. Did it even count as giving sexual energy?

He leaned down and kissed Baz on the mouth. He gently licked across the dry lips with his tongue. Almost as soon as his lips made contact, Baz’s struggling lessened. He lightly bit Simon’s lips. Simon took it as encouragement and gently pried Baz’s mouth open with his tongue. He could feel the shiver that traveled through Baz’s whole body. Gently, he started to trail his tongue across Baz’s teeth.

A small gasp left Baz’s mouth and Simon used the chance to dive deeper. He explored the cavern of Baz’s mouth with his tongue. Slowly he started to imitate the motion of thrusting his tongue in and out of Baz’s mouth. A small sound left Baz’s lips.

When Simon leaned back to catch his breath, the sight of Baz made his heart stutter. His dark hair was spread out on the white pillow like the most expensive silk curtains. His lips were red and his eyes half-lidded. Simon could not resist and kissed him again. Even though Baz was not wholly there, he still weakly returned the kiss this time around. It made Simon’s heart flutter and he gently sucked on Baz’s tongue. All the struggle had left Baz by now. He was lying limp in the cuffs. When Simon leaned back, Baz tried to follow him.

“Snow?” Baz asked. His voice was so small and barely audible. But in his eyes, Simon could undoubtedly see Baz. There was no trance-like empty stare, only those clear, tired eyes he learned to adore.

“Welcome back, Baz,” Simon said with a grin. Baz’s eyes slipped closed again. This time Simon did not worry frantically. He could hear the soft snores he remembered from their school days. Baz was only asleep. Simon smiled as he gently trailed his fingers across Baz’s cheek. He scrunched up his nose and turned his head sideways. Simon’s grin broadened.  
He would be all right. They would make sure of it.

“Did he wake up for a moment?” a voice asked from behind him. He turned around. Fiona was standing in the doorway. In her hand she held her car keys. 

“He recognized me,” Simon said with a grin. 

“Good,” Fiona said with a nod as she stepped inside the room. She pulled out her wand.

**“Time heals all wounds!”** Fiona twirled her wand with her words and Simon could see the wounds that were carved into Baz’s flesh slowly close. The runes from the binding ritual took much longer to heal beneath the spell than should be normal. Simon let out a breath of relief as the last one disappeared and only whole, unblemished skin was left. 

“Why would someone do this?” Simon asked with a lost expression. 

“Power. They want power,” Fiona said with a mocking laugh.

“How do you-?” Simon’s words ceased at Fiona’s gesture.

“The book I took explains in detail what that bastard has done to defenseless children,” Fiona said as she took a large gulp of her whiskey. A cold shudder ran down Simon’s spine. 

“Did you find any clues inside the book?” Simon asked, hoping not to dwell on the darkness. He did not want to think about what that monster wanted from Baz. 

“Other than the deranged experiments with demonic energy, nothing just yet,” Fiona said with a grimace. “In the beginning there was a lot about a prophecy that was never stated, but that disappears in the experiments and the failures,” Fiona added as she twirled her whiskey in her glass.

“Could he be after Baz because he is a demon?” Simon asked as he bit his lip in worry.

“Highly likely,” Fiona said as she took another gulp. The alcohol in her glass did not seem to diminish at all. “And Baz was too weak to fight him off,” Fiona said with a growl. She blamed herself. She should have tried harder to get Baz to eat. 

“Would it still help?” Simon asked as he stared at Baz’s peaceful sleeping face. 

“Still?” Fiona asked. A knowing glint entered her eyes and the frown on her face slowly turned into a smirk.

“Would feeding on sexual energy help him hold off the binding?” Simon asked as a flush rose.

“It would make it easier for him to resist, yes.” Fiona said with a grin. She looked like the cat that caught the canary. 

“Good,” Simon managed to get out as he avoided direct eye contact with Fiona. 

“Take care of him, Snow,” Fiona commanded and Simon’s face flushed bright red. He managed to nod. “If you hurt him, no one will find your body,” Fiona promised. With one last smirk towards him she left the room and Simon was left alone with Baz once more. He watched the steady rise and fall of Baz’s chest. Simon ignored his body longing for a bed and remained by Baz’s side. He could not leave him alone.


	9. The Storm of this Curse

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have lost the battle with the unfoldable sleep couch and managed to hit my head .... I have a pounding headache yay ^^'  
> Anyways Baz is a stubborn idiot with self-worth issues in this chapter  
> I hope you enjoy it ~

Baz woke with a start. He wasn’t getting enough air. He was gasping for breath. The stench of rotten wood surrounded him. He couldn’t move. The coffin was dark and no matter how much he scrambled to get out, he never managed. The stench of blood rose in the air till he gagged on it. Everything hurt. Each cut by that knife felt like it ripped his insides out. Only darkness was here, no light. He suppressed the sob that wanted to rise. God, it hurt. It hurt so bad. Couldn’t he have just sliced his throat and be done with it?

“Baz!” a voice called. It sounded like Snow. Impossible. He couldn’t be here. Shouldn’t be here. There was only pain and decay. Someone that was the embodiment of the sun should not be here. Simon needed to leave. Baz did not want him to lose his light. The darkness would swallow him whole. Baz opened his mouth, but it felt like the darkness pressed down his throat and left him without a voice.

“Baz, open your eyes!” He shook his head. No, he did not want to see the wooden lid. He did not want to be surrounded by pain again. He whimpered and squeezed his eyes shut.

“Baz.” It sounded so much like Simon. It even smelt like him and felt like his touch, as the faintest touch caressed his cheeks.

“Please open your eyes.” The plea in his voice was what did it. Baz could never stand the sound of Snow pleading.

Slowly, he opened his eyes and the bright world was revealed. The relieved smile on Snow’s face was the first thing he saw.

“There you are,” Simon said as he smiled at him. Baz blinked in confusion for a moment before turning his head away to hide the tears that had sprung to his eyes. He tried to turn away from Snow, but he couldn’t move. His legs were free, but his hands were chained above his head.

“Snow, why am I chained to my bed?” Baz asked with an arched eyebrow. It was fascinating to watch the flush that rose to Simon’s cheeks. It banished some of the darkness that seemed to lurk among the shadows.

“Well,“ Simon glanced around the room helplessly.

“Because you managed to get yourself bound, stupid nephew,” Fiona drawled from where she was leaning against the doorway.

“I noticed,” Baz said as he winced. The runes that had been cut into his flesh throbbed like the wound from the hellhound had. It was painful, but the sight alone of Simon and Fiona lessened the sting. The pain was still there even if the wounds were gone.

“I told you to feed,” Fiona said with a sigh. Baz stubbornly refused to look her way.

“Talk some sense into him,” Fiona said as she patted Simon’s shoulder and left the room. Simon looked at Baz with steely determination shining in his eyes.

“What?” Baz asked wearily.

“You need sexual energy,” Simon stated bluntly.

“Why do you know…?” Baz bit off the rest of his words and turned his head away. It hurt, but he managed to curl up as much as possible. He knew.

“Stop moving. You’re making it worse,” Simon said as he reached out and lightly touched Baz’s shoulder. Baz flinched away from his touch. He did not see how Simon’s expression fell.

“Happy? You finally know what I am,” Baz said with a sneer. A mask hiding all of his emotions was slipping over his face.

“I know you’re an incubus, and?” Simon looked puzzled.

“You can go tell your precious Mage and finally get rid of me,” Baz said slowly as if Simon was stupid.

“I would never tell anyone,” Simon protested.

“Not even your beloved Mage?” Baz said with a sneer.

“No, not even him.” Simon said and looked straight at Baz, honesty shining in his eyes as he tried to make Baz believe him.

“Why?” Baz asked and hated that his voice came out far frailer than he wanted it to.

“Because you’re Baz and there is no way that I would let anyone touch you. You were as much a part of the only home I have ever known as the stone corridors and the magic,” Simon said earnestly.

“For a memory long past?” Baz asked again.

“No, for I enjoy your company and learned to live with the poison that may leave your mouth,” Simon said with a grin.

“You’re a fool, Simon Snow,” Baz said as he blinked. He would not cry just because Snow said that he enjoyed his company.

“As you’ve said from the beginning,” Simon said as he leaned forward.

“Are you telling me that you admit to being a fool?” Baz said. At Simon’s shrug Baz only marveled, “The sun must be rising from the west today.” Simon snorted in amusement.

“Baz, I am sorry,” Simon said as he looked at Baz with solemn eyes.

“For what?” Baz asked with a confused expression.

“For what I said during our fight the other day. I’m sorry, I should not have said any of it,” Simon said as he looked at Baz like a sad puppy.

“It’s okay. I am sorry too, for the words I said.” Baz admitted. The anger and hurt had disappeared. While he was stuck in the coffin he had imagined apologizing a thousand times. Simon smiled at him with the kindest and warmest smile Baz had ever known. He had to look away in embarrassment and, as he tried to hide, he remembered that he was still tied up.

“Are you ever going to untie me or do you like seeing me tied up?” Baz asked with an arched brow.

“I might,” Simon said bluntly and immediately flushed. Baz thanked the stars that he had not fed or else he would be just as bright red. Awkward silence descended on them. Hunger clawed at Baz. It had been awhile since he had been that starved for sexual energy and for human food.

“Untie me. I need to eat,” Baz said as he tugged at his bound wrists.

“No, you are not going to the club to feed,” Simon said with a glare.

“Not what I meant, but also I need to feed at the club,” Baz said with a glare.

“Penny is making pancakes. No, you are not going to the club.” 

“I need to, Snow,” Baz said with a frown.

“You don’t need to. Who said you could only eat there?” 

“I will not have sex with a random stranger,” Baz snarled.

“Who said you have to do it with a stranger?” Simon asked. Alone the image of Baz being touched by someone unknown made his hackles rise.

“I could hardly ask somebody I know!” Baz said with a glare that could melt ice. “I refuse to do it with strangers and ambient feeding is the only thing that stills my hunger in any way,” Baz said with a shrug.

“But it doesn’t fill you,” Simon said with a frown.

“Better than nothing,” Baz stated.

“The hungrier you are, the weaker you are. The more the binding will get to you,” Simon said as he bit his lip.

“I won’t let some stranger fuck me even if it means losing myself, or starving,” Baz snarled.

“Again, it doesn’t have to be a stranger,” Simon persisted.

“Who else? Do you see anyone lining up to fuck me into the sheets till my hunger abates?” Baz asked with a skeptical look.

“Yes, me,” Simon stated simply. Every thought that had been in Baz’s head flew right out the window. He was left staring blankly at Simon.

“What? Can you repeat that?” Baz said with wide eyes.

“I said me,” Simon repeated calmly. Baz was the complete opposite of calm.

“No way! Nope!” Baz frantically shook his head.

“Why not?” Simon asked with a frown. Baz’s immediate refusal hurt.

“You will not fuck me just because of your knight in a shining armor tendencies,” Baz shook his head. It would destroy his heart to have a taste of something he wanted so much but never could have. It was like holding out a bottle of water to a man starving of thirst and only allowing him one sip. “I am not your damsel in distress to satisfy your saviour complex.” Baz hissed.

“What?” Simon looked at him with clear confusion.

“I am not some pity fuck!” Baz snarled.

“Whoa, that's not what I said!” Simon protested.

“Ha, it was implied. ‘The poor Pitch heir is going to become a puppet, I will sacrifice myself to save him’,” Baz said with a roll of his eyes. Only the fact that he was still chained to the bed kept him there or else he would have long stormed off.

“There is no sacrifice involved,” Simon said.

“Ha, as if you would ever want to touch me if it were not for this fucking binding,” Baz said with a self-mocking laugh. Simon frowned.

“Not true,” Simon protested quietly. He always wanted to touch Baz. It was ridiculous how much he wanted to touch him. Kiss him.

“You hate me, Snow. There is no way that you want to have sex with me if not out of some twisted hero complex,” Baz snorted disdainfully.

“I don’t hate you,” Simon said as he looked at Baz’s unsettled expression. He was feeling quite the opposite. If this continued, he might fall in love. He liked Baz. Liked him more than he had ever liked anyone before. His relationship with Aghata had been meant to be perfect. It had been nothing more than a hollow play two actors acted out. Neither of them had been in love; they liked each other, sure, but only in a very friendly way. It was a simple spark, while every emotion he felt towards Baz was like a raging fire. It burned everything it touched. All consuming, and it made his heart flutter in a beat he had never heard nor felt before.

“We might have a tentative friendship, yes, but that is no reason to force yourself to have sex with me!” Baz said as he avoided Simon’s intense stare. Alone the thought of having sex with Simon made heat rise. God, he was such a lost cause. He did not want to have sex with Snow if it was only to save him. He didn’t want sex without feelings.

“I am not forcing myself,” Simon said with a frown. Quite the opposite. He felt overwhelmingly eager to push Baz down into the sheets. It was taking all of his self-control to not reach out. He wanted to crush their lips together like he had done last night.

“Snow, we both know that you like women and not guys like me,” Baz said with a sigh.

“Again, not true. You’re off your game Baz,” Simon said with a small smile. He was not sure if he liked other guys as well. The only one he had ever noticed was Baz. He might be bi.

“What?” Baz asked with surprise clearly written across his features.

“I like both it seems,” Simon said with a shrug and a disarming smile.

“It seems?” Baz would forever deny that his voice had risen in pitch. His world view had just been completely overturned. He used to console himself that Simon would at least not fall for other boys. At least no other boy would have him. Now that was gone.

“Or at least I like one boy,” Simon said with a grin.

“Oh? Who?” Baz asked, hoping that it did not show the heartbreak that he was feeling on his face. He had lost Simon again. It hurt.

“He is ridiculously smart, posh and an absolute wanker at times,” Simon said with a grin.

“Sounds like an asshole,” Baz said. He did not want to hear this.

“Oh, he is. He plays the violin, makes amazing cocktails and sometimes I think he hates himself,” Simon said with a small frown when Baz still seemed to not get that he was talking about him. Baz only let out a hum of understanding. “Sometimes I wonder if I am not good enough,” Simon whispered.

“You’re way better, Snow,” Baz said with a snort.

“Then why won’t he figure out that I like him?” Simon said with a frown.

“Then he is blind,” Baz said with a shrug. And a fool, Baz added in his mind

“Maybe I should just bluntly tell him?” Simon asked as he tilted his head.

“Maybe,” Baz agreed. He felt like the universe was being exceptionally cruel to him today. First he was kidnapped, then his lifelong secret love offered to have sex with him and now he encouraged said love to confess to the boy they loved. The universe had a horrible sense of humor. Baz was brought out of his musings when he felt a touch to his cheek. Simon was staring at him with an intensity that made him want to hide. But he was a Pitch and there was no way he would hide away. He held eye contact.

Simon nodded to himself before standing up from the chair and stepping closer to the bed.

“Snow?” Baz asked with a puzzled expression. Before he could ask another question he let out a noise of surprise. Simon had climbed on his bed and bluntly sat down on top of him. He was sitting on Baz’s hips. Oh god, what the hell was Snow doing? Baz needed him to get off before his body reacted inappropriately.

“Snow, what the fuck are you doing? Get off!” Baz protested as he tried to reach down and push him off. His hands did not move, only the chains rattled. He had forgotten that he was still chained to the bed.

“Shut up, Baz,” Simon confidently said. He leaned forward so that he was looming over Baz.

“What are you doing?” Baz asked. His body was reacting to the closeness of him. It left goosebumps along his skin.

“I said shut up.” Before Baz could react Simon had leaned down and crushed their lips together. Baz’s noise of surprise was muffled.

Simon Snow was kissing him. Baz was frozen in surprise. Simon’s tongue was gently licking across his bottom lip. A shudder trailed down his spine and he could not suppress the gasp that left his lips. Simon took it as his chance to push his tongue into Baz’s mouth. Gently, he started to explore his mouth. The moan that left Baz’s lips was hungrily swallowed by Simon. It felt like Simon was pouring liquid heat down his throat. It made his whole body sing. He was hardening in his pants. The tight clothes felt so very restrictive. It almost hurt, but it made the whole experience even hotter. Another moan left his lips. He was shivering. Each glide of Simon’s tongue in his mouth felt like an electric shock. Simon slowly lowered himself till he was completely lying on top of Baz. The weight of him sent another shiver down Baz’s spine. Snow was so, so warm.

Simon’s hands found their way into Baz’s hair. Simon let out a moan of his own into Baz’s mouth. His hair felt as silky and as soft as Simon had always imagined. His whole body was so cold against him. It slowly warmed up. As he started to lightly scratch along Baz’s scalp, Baz almost started to purr. Simon’s smile got lost in their kissing. It felt like everything was on fire. His whole body was a single being of heat and desire.

He broke off their kiss and the sight of Baz beneath him made the arousal in his gut tighten. Baz was flushed and his usual neat hair was in total disarray. It lay around his head like a dark halo of seduction and sin. His lips were so red and swollen. He was panting for breath, his chest rising and falling rapidly against Simon’s own. Simon could hear the thundering of his heartbeat. At times he did not know if it was his own heart he heard or if it was Baz’s. Both their hearts were beating in the same rhythm. The eyes he adored were blown wide and looked so dazed. Baz’s whole body was shivering against his own. He looked more pornographic than anything Simon had seen before. Simon bit his lips.

“I like you,” Simon stated plainly as he leaned back down till their lips were a hair’s breadth apart.

  


“What?” Baz slurred. He felt tingly all over. His body was on fire and for a moment he had felt as if he could come from the kisses alone. The room was flooded with his pheromones.

“I like you, Baz Pitch,” Simon repeated before he kissed the corner of Baz’s lips. He kissed his cheeks, his forehead and the tip of his nose.

“Wait, you what?” Baz exclaimed as clarity returned to his eyes.

“I like you,” Simon repeated as he smiled at Baz.

“Are you sure?” Baz blurted out. This felt like a dream, a dream way too good to be true.

“Of course, I am sure,” Simon said with a roll of his eyes.

“Excuse me, you hated me!” Baz exclaimed. Damn it, his hands being chained was driving him nuts.

“I did, but I was young. My obsession with you has always been there. It just took on a new meaning,” Simon said with a shrug.

“What, who are you and what have you done with the blockhead Simon Snow?” Baz asked suspiciously.

“Why is it so hard to believe that I like you?” Simon asked with narrowed eyes.

“I am me,” Baz said with a shrug.

“Good, or else I would not be falling for you.” Simon said with huff. Baz gaped at him. “Seriously, what do I have to do for you to believe me?” Simon said with an arched brow.

“It’s too good to be true,” Baz whispered. Simon frowned and reached out and ran his fingers through Baz’s hair again.

“Why do you think that?” Simon whispered back as Baz unconsciously leaned into his touch. Like a cat starved for any kind of attention.

“It’s a dream I have had for so long that it cannot be true. I am still stuck in that coffin,” Baz murmured with a sad little smile.

“It’s real!” Simon growled as he crashed their lips together again. The kiss was frantic, and Simon just wanted him to feel that it’s real. His hands wrapped around Baz’s shoulders. His grip was so tight that the faintest bruises started to bloom on Baz’s pale skin.

“Stop it, Baz. It is real. You are no longer in that coffin and you will never be in it again,” Simon growled as his arms wrapped around him. Baz just smiled sadly at him.

“Should I call Fiona, so that she can kick some sense into you?” Simon said with a frustrated noise. Before Baz could answer, a knock resounded at the door.

“Anyone want some pancakes?” Penny asked as she poked her head through the now open door. In her hand, she held a plate stacked with steaming hot pancakes. She looked at them. Simon was still sprawled out on top of Baz.

“Nevermind,” she said and took a step back and closed the door.

“Penny! I need your help!” Simon called. The door opened again.

“I do not want to explain anything regarding sexual intercourse,” Penny said as she eyed them suspiciously.

“No!” Simon exclaimed flushing red.

“Tell him that this is real and not a dream!” Simon said as he pointed at Baz with a scowl.

“Bunce, good morning,” Baz said calmly.

“Hold on, why do you not believe this is real?” Penny asked. She was already getting a headache and it was not even nine o’clock yet.

“Snow is acting very unreal,” Baz summarized dryly. “Also, could someone please untie me?” Baz asked with an arched eyebrow.

“No, only after you have remained tranceless for the next twelve hours. Si?” Penny asked with an inquisitive look.

“Is it so hard to believe that I like him?” Simon asked with a whine.

“...that’s what’s keeping him from thinking this is real?” Penny said with a disbelieving snort.

“Snow bloody kissed me. The world is ending, Bunce,” Baz said as if he was stating the most bland news report.

“Stop being so dramatic, Pitch,” Penny said as she pinched the bridge of her nose.

“He said he wanted to have sex with me,” Baz added.

“It’s true, I want to!” Simon protested.

“Way too much information, Si!” Penny said with a roll of her eyes. “Okay, Baz, this is real. Stop being a drama queen for one moment and stop trying to deflect from your emotional panic. You’re denying it even though it’s all you’ve wanted. Simon, from now on there is a permanent ban on the words ‘sex’ and ‘Baz’ in one sentence. I do not want to know what's happening between the sheets. All sex education will be handled by Fiona,” Penny glared at both of them till they nodded. Fiona sneezed in the basement of the Pitch manor. Someone was talking about her.

“I will leave the pancakes here. The syrup will not be used in any sexual context, and if so,I do not want to hear even a peep about it.” Penny flung her dark curls over her shoulder before stomping out of the room.

“Oh, and Baz, believe me, Simon wants you. He may have never realized it, but he has always been obsessive and possessive about you,” Penny said with a snort. One day these two would drive her up the wall. “I am putting up a silencing charm.” she stated before closing the door with a bang.

“That went well,” Baz said with a snort.

“All you’ve wanted?” Simon asked with an inquiring gaze.

“Possessive and obsessive, Snow?” Baz retorted hoping that Simon did not notice the blush that was spreading in his face.

“I hated it when I did not know where you were. Still do. So yes, pretty obsessive,” Simon admitted freely.

“Explains your stalker behaviour in fifth year,” Baz said.

“I hated that everyone saw you on that pole in the club,” Simon admitted.

“Oh? Want a private show?” Baz did not know where he took the courage to say the words. He tried to send him a cocky smile, but it felt like it was more nervous than confident.

“I wouldn’t say no,” Simon said with a grin. Baz was once again rendered speechless.

“But don’t think that I do not notice you avoiding the topic at hand. All you’ve ever wanted?” Simon asked again.

“Snow,” Baz whispered. It still felt like it was too good to be true.

“Come on, tell me, Baz,” Simon said as he brushed the tips of their noses together. Baz looked at those blue eyes, and it felt like he could drown in them. He had always told himself that he would take his feelings with him to the grave. That he would never ever tell Simon anything about it. Maybe it was time to be courageous. Maybe it was time to spill the truth.

“ I…” Baz started, but trailed off as the words disappeared. This close, he could see every single one of the moles that painted a map of star signs on Simon’s skin.

“You?” Simon said with an encouraging smile. He kissed Baz between the eyebrows.

“...you,” Baz whispered.

“There is a word missing in the middle.” Simon murmured as he trailed lower and started to kiss the closed lids of Baz’s eyes.

Baz squeezed his eyes shut. He did not understand why this was so hard. Simon had freely admitted that he liked him, and here Baz was unable to say the words. It was like he had kept them in so long and could now no longer let go of them, like they were his words and not for sharing. Which was ridiculous, as the words had always been for Simon. Baz let out a noise of frustration. He opened his eyes and glared at Simon.

“I have been in love with you since I was fifteen,” Baz blurted out before he pushed himself upwards and crashed their mouths together. He did not want to hear Simon’s answer. He knew that his own emotions were far larger than Simon’s. Simon had said he liked him, but he had also said that he was falling for Baz.

“I never knew,” Simon whispered as they broke apart to breathe.

“I would call you a blind fool, but I made sure you didn’t know,” Baz admitted in a soft voice.

“You belittling me was an interesting way of showing your love,” Simon said with a teasing grin.

“Shut up, Snow,” Baz said as he avoided Simon’s eyes.

“Ah, hey, no, look at me,” Simon said as he grabbed a hold of Baz’s chin and gently moved it so that Baz had to look at him. “I am always slow on the uptake and slow to catch up. But at this rate, I will fall in love with you within days, or maybe even hours,” Simon said with a soft smile.

“You are a fool to fall for me,” Baz said with a weary sigh.

“I am lucky. I am a literal walking disaster, whereas you are literally perfection,” Simon said as he grinned at Baz.

“I doubt that being a sex demon counts as perfection,” Baz said with a sneer.

“No, but it’s damn hot,” Simon said as he wiggled his eyebrows.

“Oh, god, stop it, Snow,” Baz said with an eye roll. That expression on his face looked ridiculous.

“What, it’s true. Though the you not eating part is not so hot,” Simon said as he gently kissed Baz’s lips.

“Back to that?” Baz asked dryly.

“You need to feed, Baz,” Simon said. The words were soft, but underneath, steel was hidden.

“I know,” Baz admitted.

“Is the idea of having sex with me that bad?”

“No,” Baz shook his head. Simon could see that the tips of his ears were red.

“Do you want to have sex? You’re not ace, right?” Simon asked with a worried frown.

“No, I am not ace. I want to have sex, Snow,” Baz said.

“With me?” Simon asked as his fingers started to lightly scratch along Baz’s scalp. Baz shivered beneath him.

“Yes,” Baz admitted.

“Why not now?” Simon asked again.

“We have not even been on a date,” Baz admitted as he flushed.

“Ah, you want to do it the right way?” Simon asked. He smiled when Baz nodded. He was leaning into his touch again and it made him feel all warm and fuzzy.

“Baz, when have we ever done anything the right way? We literally confessed while you’re chained to your bed,” Simon said with a smirk.

“I want to wine and dine you,” Baz admitted with a pout. He had actually gotten the man of his dreams and he wanted to do right by him.

“You can still do that. Just because we’re mixing up the order of things doesn’t mean we can’t do the other stuff,” Simon said as he kissed Baz again. “Do you want to have sex with me right now?” Simon asked.

“...yes,” Baz admitted after a moment.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next chapter will be the start of the sexy times so look forward to it ~


	10. In the Dark when your Blood is calling

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Enjoy ~

“Are you sure that you want to?” Baz asked as he bit his lip. As far as he knew, Simon only had been together with Agatha. Being with a guy was a bit different. Baz did not want to spook him.

“Yes, I am sure,” Simon said as he leaned down and covered Baz’s lips with his own. Baz was shivering beneath him again. Not from the cold.

“You do know how sex between two guys works, right?” Baz asked with an arched brow.

“Yes, I know how sex works between guys,” Simon said with a roll of his eyes.

“How would you know?” Baz asked with a suspicious expression.

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” Simon answered with a grin, hoping that it looked more self-confident than he felt.

“Ah, porn,” Baz concluded as he nodded. He watched with amusement as Simon flushed. It sent a pleasant thrill through him. It felt good not to be the only one feeling all flustered. 

“Do you have supplies?” Simon asked, clearly trying to avoid further questioning. Baz let the matter drop. He nodded, but flushed at the thought of Simon opening the box. “Where?” Simon asked as he leaned back and got off the bed. Baz would deny that he whined at the loss of contact.

“Beneath the bed. Black shoebox,” Baz admitted after a moment of silence.

Simon pulled the box out and froze at the sight of the dildo that was laying on top. Immediately a picture of Baz with his legs spread and his hands wrapped around the dildo as he slowly pushed it inside himself burst into Simon’s mind. It made his own dick twitch. There was also something like a plug and a vibrator in the box.

“God, Baz, you’re unfair,” Simon said with a groan as he let his forehead rest on the edge of the bed.

“Snow?” Baz asked with a confused edge to his voice.

“You will have to show me at some point,” Simon said as he raised his head and looked at Baz with pure heat. Baz shivered beneath his gaze.

“Show you what?” Baz asked.

“Show me how you pleasure yourself,” Simon said as he raised the dildo, so that Baz could see it. He was gratified at the blush that overtook Baz’s features. He had never before seen Baz this agitated.

Simon grabbed the lube and a package of condoms and dumped them on the bed before climbing back onto the bed himself. He kissed Baz gently.

Baz let out a moan as Simon’s hand started to gently trail down his sides. Simon invaded his mouth with his tongue and Baz felt like he had been conquered long before. Their tongues entangled together. Simon gently trailed along the silk of his pajamas. The kiss broke apart and yet their lips remained so close that they breathed the same air. It made Baz dizzy. He felt like he could float away.

Simon leaned back down and started to trail kisses down Baz’s neck. He licked and nipped. It left a trail of fire that spread across his skin. Baz pressed his legs together and squirmed. Between his legs his dick was already half hard. He was shivering.

A disbelieving laugh left his lips. He was going to lose his virginity to Simon Snow. He felt giddy. Teen Baz would be over the moon; even now he felt like he was on top of the world.

“What's so funny?” Simon asked as he kissed the tip of his nose. 

“I am losing my virginity to Simon Snow,” Baz said with a grin that looked unlike anything Simon was used to. Baz almost looked drunk. Simon grinned in answer.

“Did you dream about this?” Simon asked as he slowly pushed the pyjama top open. A white chest with pretty pink nipples that hardened beneath Simon’s gaze was laid bare to him.

“Too often to count,” Baz whispered. Simon gently kissed Baz right where his heart lay.

“I wish I had known sooner,” Simon whispered back as his hand gently trailed over the defined chest. He licked his lips. Baz was built more lithe than he was, even so he had beautiful muscles. Though he looked thinner than he should have. Simon could see his ribs move with every breath he took.

“We have each other now,” Baz said with a small smile. Simon could not resist kissing him again.

“We do, and I will not let anyone touch you ever again,” Simon vowed as he gently cupped Baz’s cheek. Baz leaned into the touch with a soft smile.

“Still no damsel in distress,” Baz stuck out his tongue. He had, after all, managed to melt one of the hellhounds’ eyes with his taser. 

“I think I’m gonna hate these words,” Simon said with a roll of his eyes. He leaned down and gently bit on the tongue. Baz opened his mouth and they were kissing again.

Simon started to trail kisses down his neck, over his collarbone and towards his chest. A whine escaped Baz’s lips as Simon’s tongue flicked over his right nipple.

“You like that?” Simon asked as he reached out with his other hand and pinched Baz’s left nipple. He rolled the hard bud between his fingers.

“Ah!” A moan left Baz’s lips as a blush rose. He was such a lovely colour of pink that Simon just wanted to kiss him again.

“That wasn’t an answer,” Simon said as he lightly pulled on the nipple. Baz’s spine arched and another whine left his lips. He was trembling all over.

“O-obviously! Yes!!” Baz managed to get our between his pants. He hadn’t known that his nipples were that sensitive. Each touch felt like a shock of lightning raced down his spine directly into his dick. Even the tiny spike of pain felt like the best kind of pleasure.

Simon grinned and ran his tongue over the one he had just abused. Baz let out a soft moan at the sensation. Simon reached out and gently started to rub the other one. Every single reaction to his ministrations was the best kind of aphrodisiac. He could feel his runes flare up as they negated the effect of Baz’s pheromones. He did not need pheromones to be absolutely drunk on Baz.

With a wicked grin, Simon bit down on the nipple. A loud moan left Baz’s lips as his mouth hung open and his eyes widened in surprise. The chains rattled as he strained against them. Simon started to lightly suck. Baz started squirming beneath him, not knowing if he wanted more of Simon’s mouth or if he wanted to lessen the sensation. He felt like he was on fire, like he was too close to the sun and burning up from the inside. All of his nerves felt like they were on fire.

Simon slowly trailed his hand down towards Baz’s crotch.

“You’re this wet already?” Simon asked as he trailed his finger along the edge of the wet patch that had spread on the front of Baz’s pants. Baz’s dick was straining against the fabric. It twitched at the faint touch.

“H-how are you this calm?” Baz asked as he willed the blush to go away. To his embarrassment, his voice cracked in the middle of his question.

“I am not calm at all,” Simon admitted. His hands were shaking. Everything felt like too much and not enough. He wanted to devour Baz whole.

He lightly cupped Baz through his pants. A shiver traveled down Baz’s spine.

“Can I take these off?” Simon asked as he kissed the exposed hip.

“Yes, of course,” Baz said with a roll of his eyes. He was trying to mask the way his heart beat with the nervousness that was cursing through his veins.

Slowly and gently Simon started to pull down Baz’s pants. He was wearing black briefs underneath. Long muscular legs were revealed. They were even paler than the rest of Baz. His thighs were still as impressive as ever. Football had left its mark. He had the most beautiful legs Simon knew.

Without haste, Simon pulled down Baz’s briefs. His dick jutted out as soon as it was freed from the constrictive fabric. It was as pale as the rest of Baz. Only the head was flushed pink. Precome slowly dripped out from his slit. He was longer than Simon, but not as thick. A pretty cock for someone as gorgeous as Baz. Baz flushed underneath Simon’s gaze and tightly closed his legs.

“No hiding, Baz,” Simon murmured. He grabbed Baz’s knees and spread his legs apart. Baz squirmed and tried to press them back together, but it was too late, Simon had already caught sight of what he had been trying to hide. He moved forward so that he sat right between Baz’s spread legs.

On the inside of his thigh, just beneath his balls there was a tattoo. Black lines were etched into Baz’s pale skin. It was the tattoo of a snowflake. Simon reached out and lightly brushed his thumb over it.

“You have a tattoo? Since when?” Simon asked as he rubbed his thumb along the black lines.

“Since graduation. Dev and Niall forced me to drink,” Baz admitted as he flushed. He hoped that Simon did not get the meaning behind it. The snowflake stood for Simon. He was drunk and it had seemed like a good idea at the time. A way to get Simon out of his head and onto his skin. Back then he had thought that maybe once it was out in the open on his skin that Baz would get over him. It was the opposite. It was almost like a brand, marking him as Simon’s. Just another way to proclaim his hopeless love.

“It's me, isn’t it?” Simon asked softly. Baz averted his eyes. Snow was usually so slow on the uptake, but today it seemed to not be the case. Baz wanted to roll over and hide in his pillow. The chains prevented him from doing so. He had not wanted for Simon to see this tattoo.

“Baz?” Simon prompted as he reached out and lightly flicked one of his hard nipples.

Baz let out a faint noise of pleasure before nodding hesitantly. Simon could not help himself. He surged back upwards and kissed Baz. Their tongues mingled together as they panted for breath. His hands continued their quest to learn every curve and hard-line of Baz’s body.

“You’re overdressed,” Baz managed to get out as he hummed with pleasure.

Simon leaned back and pulled his shirt over his head. Baz’s hungry eyes roamed over the torso that was laid bare to him. Simon was broader than Baz, his muscles more obvious to the eyes. Moles and freckles speckled his skin like stars would a night sky. Scars both old and small were drawn all over his skin. Baz wanted to reach out and touch. But he couldn’t. He could only loosely tug at the chains holding his arms above him in place. He let out a noise of frustration. Simon rose to his knees and slowly unbuttoned his pants. Dark blue boxers were revealed.

Simon leaned back and struggled to get his pant leg off, but it got stuck. He tugged and squirmed and promptly fell off the bed. Baz started laughing.

“As clumsy as ever, Snow,” Baz said with a teasing sneer.

“You wouldn’t have me any other way,” Simon quipped back before pulling his boxers down in one go. Baz gulped. Snow was definitely thicker than him or the dildo Baz owned. He bit his lips. He rubbed his legs together hoping to alleviate some of the heat that itched in his groin. He wanted to feel Snow inside of himself. He needed it.

“Come back here, Snow,” Baz said as he squirmed.

Simon crawled back onto the bed, his dick swinging with each of his movements. He took his place between Baz’s thighs and grabbed the bottle of lube.

“Are you sure?” Simon asked as he uncapped it.

“I have been sure since I was fifteen! Get on with it, Snow!” Baz hissed. He wanted it in him now.

“I never thought I’d see Baz Pitch this impatient,” Simon said with a teasing grin. He poured lube onto his fingers.

“Shut up, Snow!” Baz said with a huff. Out of nervousness, Simon poured way too much onto them. It dripped down onto the sheets. “Are you trying to ruin my sheets before we even get started?” Baz asked with an arched eyebrow. Simon huffed in good-natured annoyance. He warmed the lube between his fingers. Baz was already sensitive to the cold, he did not want to make it worse.

Baz had to close his eyes. The sight alone made anticipation thrum along his body. He was shivering and squirming in place. He feared that the first touch from Simon would send him over the edge.

He had thought that Simon would touch his hole, but instead he wrapped a lube covered hand around his dick. A noise of pleasure left his lips and he strained against Simon’s grip. Oh god, it felt a million times better to be touched by Simon than his own hand. Gently, Simon started to squeeze him. Baz let out a low whine of pleasure. Simon’s callouses felt so good against his soft skin.

Simon watched Baz’s face with rapt attention. Each move up and down his dick made Baz squirm and tremble. His face was flushed. His eyes were unfocused in pleasure. His mouth hung open as he panted for breath. His lips were swollen and dark red from all their kisses. He looked so debauched. Simon loved the way Baz was spread out beneath him. He wanted to see it always. For a moment he wondered if Baz would let him take a picture one day. The sounds Baz let out when Simon squeezed on the edge of too tight were delicious. Baz was moaning and whining. It was the most lustful melody. Simon thumbed the head and gently spread the bead of precome around.

“S-Snow!” Baz managed to get out between the noises that left him. Everything was nothing but heat and sensation. He felt like he was lost at sea and only Simon’s hold of his dick anchored him to the here and now. Simon leaned forward till his breath puffed against Baz’s ear. The hot breath added another sensation to the torrent he was already drowning in.

“Call me by my name,” Simon whispered into Baz’s ear. Baz blinked at him, too dazed to really comprehend what Simon was asking of him. When Baz made no indication that he would call his name, Simon slowed down. His hand went up and down Baz’s shaft at a slow pace. Up and down he dragged. Baz shuddered with it. He whined in impatience and tried to lift his own hips to speed Simon up. Simon pressed Baz’s hips into the sheets.

“Baz,” Simon said as his hand stilled completely around Baz’s dick.

“What?” Baz croaked out. His chest was heaving for breath.

“Say my name,” Simon said as he tightened his hold on Baz’s dick till it just reached the edge of painful.

“Ah!” Baz hissed out as he threw his head back.

“It’s not difficult, Baz,” Simon said as he lightly trailed around the head of Baz’s dick with his fingernails. Baz shuddered beneath him.

“S-Snow, more,” Baz managed to get out.

“Not my name,” Simon said as he stilled all movements and loosely held Baz’s dick.

“Fuck you,” Baz hissed as he tried to raise his hips to fuck into Simon’s hand.

“Ah ah, not till you call me by my first name,” Simon said as he stilled Baz hips once more. It was heady to have Baz at his mercy. Intoxicating in the best of ways. He wanted to see Baz squirm some more. Simon’s dick throbbed.

“Simon,” Baz whispered. At once the hand around his dick started to move up and down again.

“See? That wasn’t that hard,” Simon said as he smiled at him. He tightened his grip and started to speed up. His other hand trailed down and started to play with Baz’s balls, gently massaging them.

“Simon!” Baz moaned as he threw his head to the side and squeezed his eyes shut. He felt like he was just on the edge. His body was crescendoing towards the peak. It wouldn’t take much for him to tip over the edge. Heat was pooling in his gut.

“Good boy,” Simon praised as he made a move with his hands that made Baz see stars.

“Simon!” Baz shouted as his hips stuttered before he came suddenly. Come spurted everywhere. Simon watched in fascination as Baz arched and moaned. He was twitching and Simon kept stroking him, watching in fascination as the come dripped onto his hand. Baz’s stomach was smeared with white. Baz’s face was pure erotic bliss. Sweat glistened in the light. Simon licked his lips. Baz looked amazing. So, so beautiful and so very seductive.

Baz felt like someone had set off fireworks inside him, like electricity had come to live beneath his skin. He kept twitching as the aftershocks shot through his body. Yet Simon didn’t stop. He kept touching Baz. He was so sensitive that even the lightest touch felt like too much. Pain and pleasure were becoming indistinguishable. His hips did not know whether to jerk towards Simon’s touch or away from it.

When Simon released his cock, it felt like relief and loss at once. He felt cold. He looked down and watched as Simon wrapped his hand around his own dick.

“Don’t,” Baz said softly as he nudged Simon with his knee.

“Baz?” Simon asked as he dropped his hand that was covered in lube and come.

“Come in me,” Baz ordered as he pulled his legs towards his chest. Baz turned his head away. He could not look at Simon directly. It was embarrassing. It was humiliating, and yet at the same time so hot to present Simon with his hole. Simon’s gaze looked as if he wanted to devour him whole.

“Are you sure?” Simon said as he laid his lube covered hand on Baz’s ass. He lightly caressed the firm flesh. Baz trembled at the touch.

“I’m sure. Get on with it, Snow,” Baz said in the most cocky tone he could muster. A sudden jolt of pain startled him. “Ahh,” he moaned as the spike of pain prickled along his ass cheek. The burn quickly turned into pleasure. Simon had spanked him. He could feel the handprint burn on his ass cheek.

“What did I say to call me?” Simon asked with an arched brow. He had feared that it would be too much, but by Baz’s reaction, it was just right. It seemed Baz liked it with an edge of pain.

“Simon,” Baz whispered softly.

“Good boy,” Simon murmured and Baz averted his eyes. He flushed at the praise.

Simon grabbed a hold of both of Baz’s asscheeks and spread them apart. Baz let out a small noise, but it did not sound like a protest. His hole was a pretty pink colour. Gently Simon breathed on it and watched as a shiver ran down Baz’s spine. He had an idea, but he was unsure if Baz would like it. If he really didn’t want it, he would say so. Baz never had an issue with saying what bothered him. Simon moved closer and blew another breath of warm air over it.

“What are you doing, Sn-Simon?” Baz asked with surprise. Oh Merlin, he had an idea, but even so he was not prepared for the swipe of Simon’s tongue across his asshole. He jumped and tried to squirm, but Simon’s hold on his asscheeks prevented him from moving away.

  


Baz felt all of his being centered at that one point of touch. The wet drag of Simon’s tongue over his hole. Had he not just spilled, he would have come from the first lick alone. It was sloppy, and saliva was left in the wake of each lick. Baz’s legs trembled. Baz whined in desperation. It felt so good. All the embarrassment at the deliberate display of his hole was lost in the renewed heat that overtook him. All that mattered was that he wanted more. More of his tongue, his touch. More of Simon.

It circled over and over, making Baz’s breath catch. A moan spilled from his swollen lips. He wanted to press back into Simon’s touch, but the position made it almost impossible. He could only squirm helplessly as Simon’s tongue circled his hole. It clenched beneath each lick.

Baz forgot to breathe as the tip of the slick muscle pressed into him. He moaned as Simon thrust his tongue deep into his hole. Each thrust in and out left him a trembling mess. It could have gone for hours or mere minutes. He lost all sensation of time. The only thing he knew was the slick tongue that was fucking him. He was being licked open, and his breath stuttered around another moan at the thought. He was turning into nothing more than a useless shaking mess that could only take what Simon gave him.

The sudden loss of Simon’s mouth made him whine with loss. Before he could give voice to his complaint, a slick digit entered his hole. Baz let out a gasp of surprise as the finger sunk into him with ease. His muscles were loose and relaxed. There was not a trace of resistance as the finger was buried in him.

“You’re so tight,” Simon marveled as he watched Baz’s hole greedily swallow his finger. Baz moaned. Simon twirled his finger around, exploring the tight heat that was wrapped around him. He was searching for something.

A low moan was torn from Baz’s throat when he found it. It felt like sparks were singing along Baz’s spine as Simon pressed his finger tip against his prostate.

“Found it,” Simon murmured as he started to lightly rub along it. Baz was moaning beautifully beneath him.

Baz gulped in air. He felt like he was burning from the inside out. Simon pressed another finger past his rim, this time it did not glide in as easily. He slowly pushed it in alongside the first one. The slightest burn accompanied it. It felt good, though, and made Baz squirm onto Simon’s fingers. He started to thrust them in and out of Baz. It felt so good. Baz felt delirious from the pleasure that rose and fell like waves.

A third finger slowly teased his rim. Baz held his breath in anticipation. It slipped past the rim. The burn was much more significant in comparison to the previous ones. Simon started to gently push them in and out. Till he was thrusting to a steady rhythm. From time to time he would grind his fingertips against Baz’s prostate, causing Baz to whimper and moan loudly.

“You look good writhing on my fingers,” Simon murmured as he watched Baz with heat-filled eyes. His dick was rock hard and was starting to hurt from neglect.

“S-Si-ahh-mon,” Baz moaned his name so prettly.

“Good boy,” Simon praised and watched the answering shudder that overtook Baz’s body from satisfaction.

Baz felt like he was going crazy. Simon’s fingers were pushing deeper and deeper. Each thrust was now hitting his prostate. Before Baz could warn Simon, he felt a second wave crash over him. For a moment he blacked out. It felt like fireworks danced behind his eyelids. With a loud keen, his come spilled everywhere. It landed on his chest and some even spurted up to his face.

Simon kept fucking him through the orgasm with his fingers till Baz was a trembling mess. Each push sent a flurry of sparks along his spine. Whines and whimpers escaped his lips. Simon withdrew his fingers. Baz’s hole clenched around nothing. Baz’s eyes were glassy with unshed tears and there was drool running down his chin. His legs trembled so badly that he dropped them. His body was shivering with aftershocks. His chest was rising and falling with his desperate breaths. He looked well and truly wrecked. Simon felt that there had never been a more seductive and hot sight before him. Simon pressed his hand against his dick. The pressure was a relief.

“Simon?” Baz asked blearly as he refocused. He felt like he was high. He felt oversensitive and like the smallest touch would break him. Yet he felt better than he ever remembered. There was no hunger gnawing at his bones. Though he was still hungry for more. There was no way that he would ever stop being hungry for Simon.

“Yes?” Simon said as he leaned forward. He gently kissed Baz’s flushed cheeks. His body was burning with need.

“Get in me,” Baz commanded. The haughty tone got lost in his breathy voice.

Simon kissed him. He lightly bit Baz’s lower lip before leaning back. He grabbed a hold of the lube and smeared a good amount on his dick. He took a hold of Baz’s legs and pushed them forward till Baz was literally almost folded in half.

“Can you hold them here?” Simon asked after he lightly kissed his knee. Baz nodded shakily. He wouldn’t be able to hold them long though. As soon as Simon’s hand left his legs, they started to shake with the effort to hold them up. Simon frowned. Gently he lowered the legs back onto the bed.

This was too much strain on Baz at the moment. Gently he urged Baz to turn over, so that he was laying on his stomach. The chains rattled with the movement. They were barely long enough to allow the shift in position. Somehow Baz managed to get his legs under him. His back was bowed in a curve as his ass was presented.

“Good boy.” Simon gently stroked his ass and Baz blushed at the praise. He hid his face in his pillow. Baz hummed as Simon gently started to rub his fingers over Baz’s asshole. He pushed his fingers back inside and it felt like they belonged there.

Baz let out soft sounds as Simon gently thrust them in and out. His dick was slowly stirring. He was becoming hard again. Simon idly wondered how many times he could get Baz off.

When the fingers withdrew, Baz’s ass clenched down around nothing. It felt empty and cold. He wanted something in him. He wanted to be filled. A whimper escaped his lips. Simon gently stroked along his spine to calm him.

“Condom,” Simon managed to croak out.

“Don’t need it,” Baz protested with a whine of impatience.

“Baz,” Simon admonished with narrowed eyes.

“Virgin sex demon, Snow. I cannot get sexually transmitted diseases,” Baz managed to say between breaths.

The first touch of Simon’s cock at his hole punched the breath out of his lungs. It felt so large. Alone the head nudging against his rim felt so much bigger than the fingers that had just been in him.

“Relax,” Simon whispered as he slowly pushed forward. The pressure against his hole increased. Baz made a noise that sounded almost like a sob. Even with the amount of stretching and prep they had done, the pressure turned into pain as the head of Simon’s dick slipped inside.

A long whine left Baz’s throat. He sobbed as Simon pushed forward, past his ring of muscles at an agonizingly slow pace. The drag of his hard cock against Baz’s velvety soft insides was painful and it burnt. Tears clung to his lashes as he squeezed his eyes shut. It hurt, but at the same time, it was so good. A part of Simon was inside of him. The thought alone made him feel drunk. He could feel Simon as he slipped inside. He could feel every part, the weight, the width, the heat. His body was rearranging itself around that one point of contact around Simon’s cock as it slowly breached his body.

Baz let out a sob of relief as the widest part of the head popped past. The ring of muscles closed around it. He could feel Simon’s pulse at the place they were connected. He could feel how Simon slowly invaded the deepest part of himself. Simon’s grip on his hips felt bruising. Baz wished that the hand-shaped bruises would remain. Simon slowly pushed deeper and deeper. It felt like all the air was being pushed out of him with each slow glide forward. Baz could only take it. Words and thoughts had disappeared. The only thing he knew was the burning point of contact between them.

Eventually, Simon bottomed out. His whole cock was buried in Baz’s ass. His hips were resting against his bare ass. It felt huge and heavy inside of him. Baz gasped for breath. It almost felt like he could feel Simon’s cock in his throat.

“Oh god.” The words were scraped out of his raw throat as Simon slowly withdrew. His cock scraped over Baz’s insides. It barely touched his prostate and it felt like Baz would lose his mind from it.

Simon was breathing heavily. His nails were digging into Baz’s skin where his hands were clenching around his hips. The sting felt good. A counterpoint to the feeling of being filled to the brim.

Sounds and vocalizations left his lips that he couldn’t name. Simon pushed back inside again. Baz loved it. He loved the pain, the stretch and the powerful awareness that Simon Snow was inside of him. He was inside of him. Connected to him in a way no one had been ever before. He was hard again. His dick pulsing with heat. He felt like he was on the edge already.

Simon slowly pulled back out again till his head almost popped back out. Baz whined. He did not want him to pull out. Simon pushed forward with more force, and all the air Baz had managed to take in was pushed out in one go. A broken moan spilled past his lips.

Another slow drag out and push in and Baz was coming for the third time. His vision whitened out. He was spasming rhythmically around Simon inside of him. He was clenching desperately. Simon grunted behind him. Baz’s cock was spurting come. It was dripping onto the sheets. He was delirious with how good it felt. Simon was slowly dragging his cock back out.

“No!” Baz moaned weakly as he clenched his muscles around Simon’s cock to stop him from pulling out.

“Ugh, Baz,” Simon moaned as he came to a stuttering stop.

“In me, come in me.” Baz managed to get out as panted for breath. His body glistened with sweat beneath the light.

“Are you sure?” Simon asked between gritted teeth. Baz was spasming around him, still in the throes of the aftershocks.

“Yes!” Baz whined low in his throat. He wanted Simon to come inside. He needed it.

Simon shifted his grip and pushed in one fast intense push. Baz shouted in surprise. His body writhing beneath Simon as he started to fuck him faster.

Baz kept yelling into his pillow as Simon started to fuck his sensitive hole in earnest. Each push in felt like it was pure electricity. Each thrust was harder and deeper than the last one. Baz was stunned and could only let out helpless sounds as Simon’s cock kept stabbing his prostate with every thrust. Tears trailed down Baz’s cheeks. It felt so intense, his body still twitching with the aftershocks of his orgasm, yet Simon was not stopping.

“Oh god!” Baz gasped helplessly as he scrambled to hold onto something, anything. His hands were still chained above his head. He clung to the chains as he rode the torrent.

“B-Baz,” Simon growled, breathless. His cock was pistoning in and out of Baz’s hole. Simon’s cock was rearranging him, making him cry and gasp. He was made for this. Made to take Simon’s cock. Choked sounds left Baz’s kiss-swollen lips and there was no way to stop them from spilling.

Baz wailed as a deep push directly stabbed his prostate. His body was overstimulated. Pain and pleasure were becoming one. He arched his back, shamelessly seeking more.

“You feel so good,” Simon moaned between panting breaths. Baz shuddered and whined in answer.

Simon pulled out and pushed in again. His cock thrust directly against Baz’s prostate. Another loud wail left Baz’s lips as he squirmed on Simon’s cock. His own cock was hard again, his body riding high on the pleasure.

Simon peeled one of his hands away from Baz’s hips. It closed tightly around his cock. Baz whined at the added stimulation. Simon’s cock kept thrusting in and out of him as his hand started to tighten and jerk him off.

His heartbeat pounded in his ears. He was lost in a sea of pleasure. The press of Simon’s cock against his prostate and the tight fist around his cock wrenched another orgasm from Baz. Pleasure erased every coherent thought. He could only feel. His muscles lost all semblance of strength. He sunk into the mattress. Simon’s cock still buried in his ass as his muscles spasmed around it. After two more thrusts, Baz’s twitching muscles pulled Simon’s orgasm from him. His cock pulsed as it emptied itself into Baz. Baz could hear him moaning and gasping for breath.

Baz trembled with the aftershocks. Simon’s cock remained buried in him. It was softening but it was still there, still heavy. It was a strange comfort. Simon had draped himself over Baz at some point. Their sweat slicked bodies were pressed together. Their heartbeats pounding in the same fast rhythm. Simon kissed the back of Baz’s neck before slowly pulling out.

Baz’s muscles spasmed around nothing. His hole gaped. He felt so empty. A shiver traveled down his spine. Simon rolled off of Baz, but he did not go far. He laid down beside Baz. With trembling hands, he reached above and unlocked the chains.

With a thankful sigh, Baz lowered his arms. Simon took a hold of his wrists. He gently massaged the feeling back into the limbs and kissed Baz’s bruised wrists, before he pulled Baz into his arms. Tiredness overcame Baz, and he closed his eyes just for a moment. He could feel Simon lightly kiss the top of his head. Before he realized it, his breathing had deepend and he had fallen asleep.


	11. (In the dark) When the Fever’s crawling

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kris murdered me, but that has happened every time I saw the art for a chapter. So so so so HOT 🔥  
> I have ascended to heaven ~~~
> 
> I hope you enjoy this steamy chapter 💖
> 
> ‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾ Thank you so much for all the lovely kudos and comments! ☽༓･*˚⁺‧͙

Baz woke to heat pressed along his body. Simon was holding him close. It was hard to tell where one began and the other ended. He felt sticky and sore. Both of them were still naked and both of them needed a shower.

He tried to wiggle out of Simon’s arms, but it only caused Simon to hold on tighter. The more Baz tried to get out of his hold, the closer Simon pulled him back. Till there was not even a hair's breadth of room left between them. Baz flushed as he felt Simon’s half hard cock nestle against his ass. Baz’s body was sore, and the memory alone made him blush. There was no hunger gnawing at his bones. He raised his hand. He was no longer the palest snow white. He was still pale, but no longer as deadly pale. He felt truly warm for the first time since forever. Heat and warmth radiated from Simon like he was a sun walking among mortals. Baz managed to turn around in Simon’s arms so that he faced him. Simon was sleeping with his mouth open. Light snores left him.

“Mouth breather,” Baz whispered with a fond huff of laughter. He had sex with him last night. Simon Snow had sex with him. It was an impossible dream come true. Baz felt heat pool low in his gut at the thought. As light had returned to the room, the embarrassment rose. He wanted to hide himself because he had acted so shamelessly. Presenting his hole to Simon. Even worse, he had come four times whereas Simon had only come once. Every touch had felt so good that his body could not hold on. He had never been touched before. It had been overwhelming and bordering on too much. But it had been so good. Baz tingled all over at the thought alone. He blamed his low endurance and his fast refractory period on being an incubus. It was all the fault of him being a sex demon. Had he not been one, he would not have spilled so often and so prematurely. Baz hid his flaming cheeks against Simon’s collarbone. It felt wonderful to be in Simon’s arms. To be held by him was another dream Baz had thought impossible. Although he wanted to remain in Simon’s arms forever, nature called.

Somehow he managed to wiggle out of Simon’s octopus hold. As he climbed down from the bed and stood on his shaky legs, Simon started to wake up. Baz took a single step forward and froze. He could feel it. Out of his hole something was slowly dripping down his leg. Simon’s come was dripping out of his asshole. Baz flushed bright red and his legs gave out. He slowly slid towards the ground. His cock stirred with interest. It made him shiver. The feeling of Simon’s come slowly sliding past his still loose ring of muscles made him tremble.

“Baz?” Simon’s sleep-heavy voice croaked from behind him.

Baz didn’t answer him. His cock twitched at the sound of Simon’s voice. It should be illegal. Simon’s voice after he had just woken up should be banned. It was a health hazard to any healthy gay man.

“Why are you on the floor?” Simon asked as he sat up. He rubbed the sleep out of his eyes.

There was no way that Baz could get up without showing Simon his back and he would see the come dripping out. Baz clenched his legs together and squeezed his eyes shut. He had sex with Simon, there should be no reason for him to be embarrassed by this. But still he felt himself blush at the thought of Simon seeing.

“Baz?” Simon asked again. Worry was slowly invading his voice.

“I’m fine, Snow,” Baz managed to get out.

“I don’t believe you,” Simon said with a frown and stood up. Baz glanced over his shoulder and was greeted by the sight of a naked Simon in all of his glory. He quickly turned back around. That was not helpful to the situation between his legs.

Simon walked and dropped to his knees in front of Baz. His gaze roamed over him quickly, assessing that nothing was wrong with him.

“What’s going on Baz?” Simon asked as he cupped his cheek. Baz leaned into the touch and closed his eyes for a moment of bliss.

“I’m dripping,” he managed to get out and flushed deep red immediately after the words left his mouth.

“Dripping?” Simon asked as he glanced down towards Baz’s cock which looked normal to him.

“Out of my ass, Snow,” Baz said with a sneer that felt wobbly. This was freaking embarrassing.

“Oh!” Simon said as he finally got it. As soon as he realized, his face flushed bright red. In that moment he resembled a tomato more than a human being.

“I need a shower, but I am dirtying the floors,” Baz said with a huff. He would be the one that had to clean it up. There was no way he would let anybody else do it. He would rather combust before he let Fiona see it.

“I can carry you?” Simon offered. He was still bright red and Baz noted that his dick was more than half hard by now.

“I will still drip,” Baz said with a hiss.

“Ehh.” Simon made a noise, and while he contemplated, his eyes landed on the black box that was still laying on the floor. His eyes darkened. He had an idea.

“I got it,” Simon said as he walked towards the bed. He grabbed the lube and the plug he had seen last night.

“What are you doing, Snow?” Baz asked as he watched him wearly.

“Making sure you do not drip,” Simon said with a grin.

“Snow,” Baz protested weakly. His dick was stirring with interest.

“Not my name,” Simon said as he sat down behind Baz. He kissed his shoulder and gently grabbed his ass. He pushed Baz forward till he had to catch himself before he fell face first into the floor. It gave Simon perfect access to his ass. Baz flushed, but made no move to stop him.

“Simon!” Baz shouted as Simon pushed a finger deep into his hole. Baz bit his lip to stop another lewd sound from spilling forth. Simon started to push it in and out. Slowly and gently. It was driving Baz insane. In and out. Baz was still loose from last night. His hole still formed to take Simon’s cock. Come from last night was coating his fingers with each push in and out. Wet noises filled the air, causing Baz to clench his eyes shut. There was no need for more lube, as Baz was still wet and dripping. 

A second finger soon joined the first and they pushed directly onto his prostate. Baz's eyes widened with surprise. The wail that broke forth from Baz’s lips was loud and dripping with pleasure. He was losing his mind. Simon was so so good at it. It was driving him insane.

Baz whimpered as Simon’s fingers withdrew.

“Hush,” Simon whispered as he gently stroked Baz’s lower back. Baz jumped as he felt something cold press against his hole. The pressure against his hole intensified and, with a small sting of pain, the tip of the plug slipped inside. It felt so different from Simon’s cock. Now that he knew what the real deal felt like, this was making him feel wholly unsatisfied. It was cold, there was no heat. It was not nearly as wide and heavy. Simon slowly pushed it all the way in. It didn’t fill Baz the right way. The plug was not reaching deep enough. Baz made a noise of disatisfaction.

Simon pulled away and Baz whined in protest. Baz was pulled to his feet by Simon who then swept him off his feet. Baz squawked and suppressed the whine that wanted to break free at the sudden change in position. The plug was moving. It rubbed along his insides and made him see sparks.

“Let me down!” Baz protested as he tried to get his heat-infested body under control.

“Nope,” Simon said with a grin as he carried Baz towards the small bathroom that adjourned his room. Simon loved the feeling of having Baz at his mercy. It was a heady feeling. He could get drunk off it. Baz beneath him and letting him do whatever he wanted was better than any aphrodisiac.

Baz hit Simon’s chest, but made no further move to break out of the princess carry. It was kind of nice to be held in Simon’s arms.

Simon gently placed him down on the floor of the shower. Baz had to lean against the tiles because his legs were shaking so much. Simon started to fiddle with the shower till he was satisfied with the water’s temperature. The sight of Simon in his shower made Baz smile. He remembered how he had jerked off to a fantasy of Simon in here just a few weeks ago. And now Simon was really here.

“Why are you grinning so hard?” Simon asked with a playful smile as he took a hold of Baz’s wrist and pulled Baz towards himself. Now both of them stood beneath the spray of hot water. Baz laid his hands onto Simon’s bare chest. He could feel Simon’s heartbeat beneath his fingers. Another smile broke across his face as he leaned down to kiss Simon on the mouth.

“I’m happy,” Baz admitted with a small smile. Simon’s answering smile was pure sunshine. Their lips crashed together again and again.

Soon their tongues were swirling around each other. A shudder ran down Baz’s spine at the feeling of Simon sucking on his tongue. The beat of the water as the shower spray hit them heightened every sensation. It made him feel even more sensitive to every single one of Simon’s touches.

Simon’s hands were at his sides before they slowly moved down. They grabbed a hold of his asschecks and pulled them apart. It stung lightly at his stretched rim. A hiss left Baz’s lips. Simon kissed an apology into his skin before he started to knead Baz’s ass. Baz moaned lightly into the kiss.

  


Simon’s hands kept roaming over his ass. It caused shudders and shivers to roll down his spine in an endless wave. His dick was hard and aching. He clenched around the plug, but the feeling was just not enough, he needed more. He wanted to have Simon’s cock in him again.

Suddenly the plug was being pulled out. Baz let out a whine of protest. Even though the plug was not enough, at least it was something. He didn’t want to be empty. He clenched around the plug, trying to keep it inside. Simon was relentless. He pulled Baz’s plug out till only the tip remained, before harshly pushing it back inside. A mewl left Baz’s lips. His legs were shaking again.

Simon started to fuck him in earnest with the plug now. Even though it didn’t reach that deep it still made Baz’s toes curl in pleasure. Baz moaned and gasped as he panted for breath. He sputtered as the spray hit him in the face. He coughed, but Simon did not stop. Baz could only take it. He whimpered as Simon ground the tip straight into his prostate. Simon’s hot breath puffed against his ear.

Simon manhandled him into a better position, and Baz didn’t have the mind to protest. Baz braced his hands against the shower tiles as Simon stood behind him. Baz gasped at the feeling of the plug being pulled out completely in one swift move. His hole was gaping and he could feel the come slowly drip out. He shivered as his hole spasmed around nothing. The feeling of emptiness didn’t last for long.

“Simon!” Baz wailed as Simon rammed his cock into him. Pain and pleasure struck him like lightning as Simon’s cock forced its way inside. It was so tight. It hurt, but it felt so good. Baz sobbed with it.

“Shhh, good boy,” Simon whispered into Baz’s ear as he draped himself all along Baz’s back. Another sob of pleasure left Baz’s lips, drowned out by the sounds of the shower. Simon pressed forward till Baz was caught between the wall and Simon’s hot body. His dick was scraping Baz’s insides raw as it pushed in as deep as it could go. Baz could do nothing but helplessly shiver as Simon sunk deeper and deeper into him. He moaned as he felt Simon’s balls come to rest against his own. Simon was fully inside of him. God, it felt even deeper than yesterday. If he laid his hands on his stomach, he wondered if he could feel Simon’s cock inside of him.

He mewled pathetically as Simon slowly withdrew.

“Ah!” A shout left his lips as Simon rammed back inside. There was nothing slow or gentle about the thrust. Baz wailed as Simon started to fuck him in earnest. In and out he pistoned. Each thrust felt like it reached deeper inside of Baz than the last. Each grunt, gasp or moan that left Simon’s lips caused Baz to helplessly answer with his own noises of pleasure. He felt like everything was on fire. Everything burned. His legs trembled from the effort of holding himself up. His hole burned and each thrust stoked the fire higher and higher. Till Baz felt like his whole being was burning.

A loud wail broke free as the tip of Simon’s cock jackhammered straight into his prostate. Tears rolled down his cheeks as he saw stars. Come spurted out of his dick and against the shower walls. His body trembled in its aftershock, yet Simon didn’t stop.

Baz mewled weakly as Simon hit his prostate dead on again. It was too much. But he couldn’t get away. He didn’t want to. He could only hold on and let Simon wreak havoc upon his body. Tears dripped down his cheeks as his body trembled after his orgasm. Only the tile wall and Simon’s bruising grip on his hips held him up.

Simon moaned in Baz’s ear as his hips stuttered and he pumped Baz full with more of his come. Baz weakly moaned at the feeling. Simon grabbed the plug and gently pushed it back into Baz’s hole.

“W-why push it back?” Baz croaked out as he slowly sunk down towards the floor of the shower.

“Will you keep it in some more?” Simon said as he sunk down beside Baz. He nuzzled Baz’s shoulder before leaving affectionate kisses along his neck. Baz tilted his head to allow Simon more access and hummed in pleasure.

“Why?” Baz asked again.

“It’s hot imagining you walking around plugged with my come underneath your posh clothes,” Simon admitted as he kissed Baz’s cheek.

“You’re filthy,” Baz sneered as red bloomed across his cheeks.

“Only for you,” Simon said as he kissed Baz on the lips.

Whatever else Baz had wanted to say was interrupted by a loud crack.

“Oy! Wake up you sex maniacs!” Fiona boomed as she kicked open the door to Baz’s bedroom. Baz groaned.

“We are in the bloody shower!” Baz shouted back as Simon quickly looked around for some place to hide.

“Then hurry the fuck up, we need to talk,” Fiona shouted and slammed the bedroom wall as she left.

“I think we better hurry before she bursts into the bathroom as well,” Baz said with a sigh as he grabbed his bottle of shampoo. Simon looked a little green at the thought of Fiona seeing both of them naked together.

“Let me,” Simon said softly, the words nearly drowned out by the sound of the shower, as he took the bottle of shampoo from Baz’s hands. “Still the same expensive brand as always,” Simon said with a chuckle as he uncapped it and poured a generous amount of product into his hands.

Bliss, it was pure bliss to feel Simon’s hands gently massage shampoo into his scalp. It was heavenly. Each slide of Simon’s fingers through his wet hair sent shivers of pleasure down Baz’s spine. He felt like he was melting into a puddle. Soft sounds of contentment and pleasure left his lips.

Warmth unfurled in his stomach as Baz leaned into Simon’s touch. If he could, he would be purring. Simon lightly scratched along his scalp and reveled in the soft sounds Baz made. He was so trusting in the way he leaned into Simon’s touch. All the defense Baz usually carried like armor had disappeared. It was amazing to have Baz’s trust.

To have Baz trust him with his body and his heart was unbelievable. To have the haughty Baz Pitch hand his body over without hesitation made Simon feel like for once things were not out of his control. To have Baz beneath him made him feel powerful and, at the same time, so tender. He wanted to give Baz the world, if he could. Baz deserved the world.

Not him. Simon was broken in a million different ways. Whereas Baz was perfection. He reminded Simon of the night sky. Vast, cold, beautiful and unreachable. He seemed to be crafted out of the most beautiful starlight. And yet he had chosen Simon Snow, an orphan, the worst Chosen One to be chosen. Someone that was broken. He was wanted. Baz wanted him with all the broken bits and pieces. Simon had held him. He had made love to Baz. He was still touching him. He felt like he was not worth Baz’s affection. Yet it was an immeasurable feeling that welled up in him whenever Baz’s soft eyes looked at him. He used to only see the harsh coldness in them, and now Simon could see so much love in those once-steely eyes. Baz loved him. It was the most beautiful present of all.

“Snow?” Baz asked softly when Simon’s fingers stilled in his hair. He turned around and froze as he caught sight of the tears that were dripping down Simon’s face. The shower spray made them disappear as fast as they appeared. “Simon, what’s wrong?” Baz asked as he reached out.

“Nothing,” Simon said with a trembling smile. He wrapped his arms around Baz and hugged him tightly. “Thank you,” Simon said as his arms tightened around Baz, who made a noise of confusion but did not pry deeper. After a moment, Simon leaned back and gently helped Baz rinse his hair out. Baz took the shampoo bottle from him and gently started to wash Simon’s hair. Simon could understand why Baz had nearly been purring. It felt so good.

They each washed their own bodies even though it was hard to keep their hands to themselves. If they touched each other, they might just start another round. Then Fiona would bust in here. They wanted to avoid that situation as much as possible.

Baz shuddered as he felt Simon’s eyes watch him hungrily while Baz pulled his underwear over his ass. The plug was hidden beneath the thin black fabric. Simon could still clearly see the outline through the fabric. Baz pulled on his trousers and slowly buttoned up his shirt. Simon pulled on his own loose tee and the pair of jeans that had seen better days years ago. Baz wrinkled his nose. The bright green shirt made Simon look horrible; at some point, Baz would have to drag him out to buy clothes.

As soon as they looked presentable, they stepped foot out of Baz’s room. Baz cursed Simon. With each step he took, the plug moved inside of him. It sent faint sparks of pleasure up his spine. He bit his lip and glanced sideways towards Simon who was still staring at his ass. He took a deep breath, he could do this.

They stepped foot inside the living room and were greeted by Fiona and Penny. They both looked tired.

“Had fun having sex?” Fiona asked with a smirk as she took a sip of her vodka.

“Did you manage to figure something out?” Baz asked as he pointedly ignored his aunt’s question. Simon flushed bright red and avoided eye contact. Baz had a hard time understanding how Simon could get flustered at the word sex but had no issue asking Baz to take a plug up his ass to keep his come inside. It confused Baz, but at the same time, Simon’s flustered appearance was endearing and amusing.

“You are no longer the virgin sex demon of Watford,” Fiona added with a leer and a congratulatory toast. Baz groaned as Simon let out a flustered squeak.

“Please don’t,” Baz said with a pained grimace.

“Spoilsport,” Fiona said with a roll of her eyes.

“Did you find anything else in the book?” Simon asked, desperately hoping to distract her from their sex life. He couldn’t deal with Fiona’s intrusive comments and questions.

“There are twenty three years of demonic research in this book. This bastard belongs in hell with the demons he loves so much,” Fiona said with a sneer. 

“There are no clues who he is at all,” Penny added with a frustrated expression.

“The only mention is of a guy named Nicodemus,” Fiona said.

“Apparently he refused a deal with the bastard,” Penny added. “Not one mentioned what that deal was though.”

“Dead end?” Baz asked with a sigh.

“For now. If we were to find Nicodemus, we might figure out something else,” Penny said.

“What about the binding? Any clues on how to break it?” Simon asked with a worried frown.

“There is only one way to break the binding,” Penny said as she straightened her glasses.

“The master has to be killed,” Fiona concluded as she slouched in the armchair.

“There is really no other way?” Simon asked with a frown.

“Baz has to remain at full power for the binding to remain weak,” Penny added.

“The stronger the demon, the harder it is to keep him bound,” Fiona elaborated.

“Plus the distance between the master and the bound weakens it as well,” Penny said as she closed the book she had been reading.

“So, keep Baz away from the master and kill the master?” Simon summarized.

“And have lots of sex with Baz, do not forget that,” Fiona added with a smirk. Simon immediately regained the red colour he had just lost. It was a miracle that he had not started stuttering.

“How do we kill the master? We do not even know where he is,” Baz said with a frown.

“We will find him,” Fiona swore with a nasty grin.

“Leave him to me,” Simon added. He was no longer flustered, but something steely was now glinting in his eyes. Anger. Simon was pissed at the one who had captured Baz. The thought made warmth unfurl in Baz. He could not help the soft smile that appeared on his lips.

“Awww, your very own Prince Charming. My dear nephew, all your romantic fantasies have come true,” Fiona cooed.

“Shut up, Fiona,” Baz said with a huff as a delicate blush dusted his cheeks.

“I am trying to figure out a spell that will lead us straight to him or her,” Penny added as she pointed at the books laying around her.

“Do you need help, Bunce?” Baz asked as he looked at the books with interest.

“Maybe later,” she said as she returned her focus back onto the book in her lap. A notebook was lying on the couch beside her, already filled with notes.

“Should I find a replacement for your shift?” Fiona asked. She wanted to wrap Baz in cotton and lock him in the apartment, but there was no way Baz would let her. He enjoyed his freedom too much for it.

“I can work,” Baz said with a shrug. The normalcy of going to work might make him feel like he was really not in a dream. It still felt too miraculous at times.

“No way!” Simon protested.

“It is not your call to make,” Baz said with narrowed eyes.

“You were kidnapped, you need rest,” Simon insisted as he glared at Baz.

“I will go to work,” Baz said as he glared back.

“No! It’s way too dangerous,” Simon growled.

“Not your decision,” Baz sneered.

“No, you need rest. Please stay,” Simon said. It sounded like a command and even the ‘please’ did not soften it.

“You may command me in bed, Snow, but not what I do outside of the sheets,” Baz hissed and winced just as the words left his mouth.

“TMI!” Penny snarled as she glared at both of them.

Both Simon and Baz shut their mouths with a snap.

“Please talk like normal adults and stop arguing.” Penny said as she grabbed her books and stormed off into the guest room.

“Penny?” Simon called after her in a worried tone.

“I am going to the only place in this apartment where I can have some peace and quiet. Don’t you dare disturb me,” she said as she glared at all of them. With a loud bang, the door was slammed shut.

“Snow, don’t even try to dissuade him. Baz is as stubborn as a bull,” Fiona said with a smirk and a whistle.

“But I am worried,” Simon whispered. As soon as the words ‘work’ had left Baz’s lips, Simon felt fear grip him. He did not want to lose Baz again.

“I know you are, but I need to do it,” Baz said as he reached out and hugged Simon.

“Why?” Simon asked with a confused frown.

“I need to feel normal. I need to feel like I am in control. Like I am not losing myself,” Baz whispered.

“You will not lose yourself,” Simon insisted stubbornly as he clutched Baz closer to him. Baz was now almost sitting in his lap.

“So touching,” Fiona said as she fake sniffed.

“Fiona!” Baz snarled.

“No need to get testy, my sappy nephew,” Fiona said with a smirk.

“When does the shift start?” Simon asked as he felt Baz pinch the bridge of his nose. He could hear him taking a deep calming breath.

“In less than two hours. You guys slept through the day,” Fiona added with a smirk. Right as she finished her words Simon’s stomach grumbled loudly.

“Let’s get something to eat,” Baz said as he pulled Simon off of the couch.

“The pancakes are cold by now,” Simon said with a disappointed sigh.

“We can reheat them,” Baz said dismissively.

“No, we cannot!” Simon said in outrage as if Baz had just offered to murder his mother. “They lose all fluffiness and become chewy,” Simon said with a petulant pout.

“Do you want to throw them away?” Baz asked with an exasperated sigh.

“No, bu…” Fiona did not hear the rest of the conversation as the boys disappeared in the kitchen. A genuine smile stretched across her lips. She had hardly ever seen Baz this happy.

“You would be so proud, Natasha,” Fiona said with a nostalgic smile. She raised her glass to toast. Before she drank the last bit of her vodka.


	12. Cursed by our Desire

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 🔥🔥🔥

Baz nestled against Simon as he took a seat behind him on his bike. Simon had insisted that they would take his bike. It was gonna be torture. The plug inside him was bad enough, adding to that the vibrations and the movement of the bike, Baz feared for the state of his underwear.

Simon parked the bike and turned off the motor. Hands were still clenched into the fabric of his shirt and it seemed like Baz was in no hurry to let go.

“Baz?” Simon asked with a worried frown.

“T-this is completely your fault, Snow,” Baz ground out between gritted teeth. It was taking his everything to not let the noises spill forth. His ass felt wrecked.

Simon turned around and felt whatever he had wanted to say die in his throat. Baz was flushed and his pupils blown wide. His lips were red from where he had been biting them. He was shivering.

“Baz? Should I remove the plug?” Simon asked with a worried frown. He had not taken into account what the movement of the bike would do to Baz.

“I’m fine,” Baz said with a shake of his head.

“If you’re sure.” Simon could clearly see the stubborn tilt to Baz’s head. There was no way he was going to take it out. It sent a thrill down Simon’s spine.

Somehow Simon managed to steer Baz into the staff room without anyone noticing that something was wrong. With every step Baz took, the plug was moving inside of him. It was torture that sent pleasure up and down his spine. His cock was straining against its confinement.

Simon watched as Baz took his place behind the bar from his usual spot. One would never be able to tell just what was going on beneath his clothes. Simon licked his lips.

More and more patrons flocked towards Baz. They looked dazed and horny. Simon frowned. It seemed that Baz’s pheromones were far more potent than he had expected. Simon was completely unaffected by them and yet it did not change his constant desire for Baz.

He watched as different patrons tried to flirt with Baz only to be turned down one after another. Skillful hands started to mix a variety of colourful cocktails. A group of giggling ladies received them with fluttering eyelashes. Baz laughed as they pushed a tip down the front of his shirt. Simon’s hand around his beer glass tightened.

The final straw was when one of the very drunk patrons slapped Baz’s ass as he walked past. Baz let out a gasp and stumbled forward. His legs were shaking. Before Simon could think, he had pulled the drunk patron off of his barstool and had grabbed a hold of Baz’s wrist.

“Snow?” Baz asked as he caught his breath. The slap had caught him completely by surprise. It had pushed the plug closer to his prostate than it had ever been today. It disgusted him that some random patron had taken these liberties. Only Simon Snow was allowed to do something like that to him. He wanted to rip the drunkard to pieces. Before he could do so, Simon had grabbed his wrist and started dragging him off towards the bathroom.

Inside, the beat of the music was muted. It was empty. None of the toilet stalls had any occupants. Simon crowded Baz into one of the stalls and closed the door behind him with a bang. The lock was slid into place.

“What the fuck are you doing, Snow? My shift is not over,” Baz protested even as his body reacted to Simon’s close proximity.

“I hate seeing them crowd you,” Simon admitted as he grabbed a hold of Baz’s arse. Baz would forever deny that he squeaked at the sudden touch. “I hate that some spanked you,” Simon growled out as he started to suck on Baz’s neck.

“Snow-ah!” Baz let out a small noise of pleasure. Simon kissed him hungrily and started to swallow all the noises that left Baz’s lips. Both his hand were now on Baz’s ass, kneading the round flesh between his fingers.

Baz let out another hum of pleasure as Simon gently bit his lip. All thoughts of work had flown away. Abruptly the heat of Simon had retreated. He was no longer pressed along Baz’s body. Instead, Simon sat down on the toilet with his legs spread.

“Come here,” he whispered, and for a moment Baz wondered if Simon was not the incubus and he the unsuspecting victim. As if he was under a siren’s spell, he stepped forward.

“Can you kneel for me?” Simon asked with a soft voice as he gently trailed his fingers along the edge of Baz’s collarbone.

“Here?” Baz asked with a sceptical frown as he looked at the white bathroom floor. The toilets at the club were clean and the restroom looked sanitary, but still.

“Yes, here.” Simon said as he pointed at the spot between his knees. He looked like a king.

“Fine,” Baz grumbled out as he slowly sank down.

“Good boy,” Simon whispered as he gently trailed his fingers along Baz’s scalp. A shiver raced down his body in answer. A broken moan spilled from his red lips.

“Can I blow you?” Baz blurted out. He could see a blush climb up Simon’s cheeks. It disappeared relatively quickly and Simon looked calm once more.

“You took the words out of my mouth,” Simon said with a smile as he leaned down to kiss the tip of Baz’s nose.

With shaking hands, Baz reached forward. Slowly he unzipped the front of Simon’s pants. Simon’s dick was already bulging in his underwear. Simon lifted his ass to pull down his jeans and his underwear. His cock sprang free.

Baz had said it once before, but Simon Snow had a beautiful dick. It was thick and slightly curved. Baz could see the veins pulse at the base where blond curls nestled. The head of Simon’s cock was a beautiful dark pink. A small bead of precome pooled at the slit. Baz couldn’t resist. He licked it off. Simon watched him with hooded eyes.

Baz felt feverish as he slowly shuffled forward. He placed a light kiss on the head of Simon’s dick. Simon’s hand gently ran through his hair. Baz hummed in pleasure. With his eyes closed, he leaned into the touch. The unconscious action made Simon smile.

He grabbed a handful of Baz’s silky hair and tightened his hold. He softly pulled at it.

“Ah!” A moan spilled from Baz’s lips as his mouth dropped open. His eyes were wide open in surprise. His pupils were blown and a shiver ran down his spine. Interestingly, it seemed that Baz not only enjoyed having his hair played with but also enjoyed when Smon pulled at it.

Simon smirked at the realization. He loosened his hold on Baz’s hair and gently scratched his scalp. Baz squeezed his eyes shut for a moment before he leaned down and gently nuzzled Simon’s pubic hair. He kissed the base of his cock. His tongue licked across the hot flesh. From base to tip, he started to lick Simon’s cock.

“Fuck, Baz!” Simon cursed as he threw his head back. Baz let out a low hum and kissed one of the prominent veins. His lips trailed lower and gently he took one of Simon’s balls in his mouth. He gently started sucking on it as his tongue swirled circles across the soft skin.

Simon let out another curse and the hand in Baz’s hair tightened. A moan broke from Baz’s lips. With a pop, he released the ball he just had in his mouth. He did the same thing for the other one. Each of Simon’s curses sent a shiver down his spine and caused his dick to twitch. He returned his attention to the hard cock and started to gently lick the head.

He did not know what he was doing, he only hoped that it was pleasurable for Simon. He only wanted to make him feel good. He wrapped his hands around the base of Simon’s dick. With the barest of pressure, he started to move his hands up and down the base.

He opened his mouth and let the head of Simon’s dick rest on his tongue.

“You’re fucking beautiful,” Simon whispered as he softly rubbed his thumb along the edge of Baz’s lips. He shivered at the unexpected praise. Gently, he closed his lips around the head. He started to softly suck.

“Ugh,” Simon let out a grunt and his fingers spasmed in his hair. Baz felt powerful. He was on his knees with Simon’s dick in his mouth, but he had never felt more powerful.

“Your eyes,” Simon noted with wonder. Softly he brushed a strand of hair out of Baz’s face. He was panting as Baz’s tongue swirled along the slit of his dick. Baz’s eyes had turned a beautiful crimson. The white of his eyes had turned pitch black.

“So pretty,” Simon said as he gently caressed the skin beneath Baz’s eyes. It should be eerie, but Simon could only find those demonic eyes beautiful.

Baz squirmed and pressed his legs together. He felt like he was ready to burst. His pants and underwear were unbelievably uncomfortable, but he did not dare let go of Simon’s cock. The only thing he could do was squirm to alleviate the discomfort.

“You can take more, can’t you?” Simon asked with a challenge underlining his words. Even in the heat of pleasure, Baz glared at him. Slowly, Baz took more of Simon’s cock in his mouth. It felt so big and heavy on his tongue. Still, Baz pushed forward till he couldn't anymore. What he could no longer take into his mouth, he wrapped his hands around. He felt stuffed full.

Simon groaned. Baz’s mouth was tight and so wet. Drool was slowly dripping out of the corner of Baz’s mouth. It was an obscene sight to see Baz’s red lips wrapped around his cock. A low moan spilled from Simon’s lips.

Baz pulled back again and with a pop the cock left his mouth. A string of saliva connected his red lips to Simon’s cock. He looked straight into Simon’s eyes, and Simon felt like all breath had left him.

While never breaking eye contact, he slowly sunk back down onto Simon’s cock.

“Fuck!” Simon cursed and, with his twitch of pleasure, he yanked at Baz’s hair. A mewl broke from Baz’s lips and Simon’s cock pushed even further in. Baz’s eyes widened in surprise. Simon’s cock was pushing into his throat. He felt dizzy with pleasure. Saliva dripped down from the stretched corner of his mouth and into the curls of Simon’s pubic hair. There was no gag reflex that was triggered. Baz tried to swallow, but it was not possible. Suddenly both of Simon’s hands were grabbing his hair. The swallow had constricted all the muscles around Simon’s cock. It sent a sharp spike of pleasure down Simon’s spine. Baz moaned around the dick. The sound was muffled and still so, so hot.

Baz hummed in pleasure around Simon’s dick and Simon yanked him forward with his tight grip on his hair. At the same time, his hips pushed forward, forcing his cock even deeper into Baz’s throat. Tears sprang to Baz’s eyes. He couldn’t breathe. Simon’s hold in his hair prevented him from moving away. His underwear became even wetter. Tears rolled down his cheeks as Simon’s cock invaded his throat. He scrambled his fingers, clutching at Simon’s thighs. Simon loosened his grip, and with a sputtering cough, Baz let Simon’s cock slip out of his mouth.

He looked so wrecked. It was beautiful. Baz’s face was covered in tears and saliva. He was completely flushed and his whole body was shivering. Simon gently brushed his tears away with his fingers. Guilt gnawed at him. He hadn’t wanted to hurt Baz.

“I’m sorry. Are you okay?” Simon asked as he watched Baz gasp for breath.

“I’m fine,” Baz croaked out.

“I won’t do it again,” Simon promised as he brushed a lock of hair out of Baz’s face. Baz frantically shook his head to Simon’s bafflement.

“No!” he protested. His voice still sounded all sorts of wrecked.

“Do it again. Wreck me, use me,” Baz said as he grabbed a hold of Simon’s hand. He took two of Simon’s fingers into his mouth and started to suck on them.

“Oh, you liked it?” Simon asked with a raised eyebrow. He slowly pushed his fingers deeper into Baz’s mouth, who nodded as best as he could.

“Interesting.” Simon said as his smirk took on a devilish tint. He pulled his saliva-covered fingers out of Baz’s mouth.

He pulled something out of his pocket. It was a coin.

“Drop it if it gets too much,” Simon said as he pressed it into Baz’s hand. Baz nodded and slowly leaned forward again. Slowly, he took Simon back into his mouth, and Simon’s hands found their way back into his hair.

  


He relaxed his throat as best as he could while Simon pushed deeper and deeper till his nose was nestled in Simon’s public hair. It smelled like sex and Simon. The scent made everything even more potent.

Suddenly he was yanked backwards by his hair and a startled mewl left his lips. Before he could regain his bearings, his head was pushed forward again. Simon’s cock forced its way deep into his throat once more. Tears clung to his lashes as his throat convulsed around Simon’s cock. He was gagging on it. No matter how much he tried to struggle, he couldn’t get away. He couldn’t breathe. Just as he was growing dizzy, Simon yanked him off of his cock. The grip Simon had on his hair was painful, yet it was the only thing holding Baz up as he struggled for breath. His mouth was wide open as he gasped for air. His lungs burned.

“Fuck,” Simon was watching him with wide blown eyes. Baz shivered weakly in his hold.

Simon yanked him forward by his hair. His scalp burned, but it only added to the heat that pooled low in his belly. Simon smeared the head of his cock across Baz’s lips, smearing precome all over the reddened lips, before pushing his dick back into Baz’s mouth.

He pushed in as deep as it would go. Baz tried to relax his throat as best as he could, but it was still a struggle. He hummed weakly around his cock, and the hold Simon had on his hair tightened in answer. His head was pushed even further onto Simon’s cock. It burned and more tears rolled down Baz’s cheeks. He tried to squirm out of Simon’s hold, but no matter what he did, he couldn’t escape. It hurt, it felt like too much, but still he did not drop the coin. It still felt good.

He was slowly pulled backwards till only the head remained in his mouth. A whine left his throat as Simon just let him remain there. He started to lightly suckle at the head.

All of a sudden, the restroom door was banged open. Baz froze and looked at Simon with wide eyes. Simon yanked him forward again till Simon’s cock was buried deep in his throat again. He twitched and shivered at the sudden fullness. A low whine left his lips.

He could hear footsteps as the man slowly walked into the restroom. Simon’s tight hold on Baz prevented him from moving any way. A low whistle resounded in the bathroom. He could feel the third party’s sexual desire fill the room. Hot shame flushed his body.

“Willing to share?” a drunk voice slurred from outside their cubicle. Oh god, no. Baz squeezed his eyes shut as he tried to breathe. He was still squirming on Simon’s cock. He did not want to be shared. No.

“No. He’s mine,” Simon growled back, and the hold on Baz tightened even more. He pushed Baz down even deeper. Tears rolled down his cheeks as Simon’s cock took over every single part of his throat. He couldn’t breathe. His throat kept convulsing around Simon’s dick. A drip of precome dripped into his throat. He was drooling so much. It was dripping onto Simon’s skin. Everything felt like too much. The word ‘mine’ sent a new wave of shivers down his spine. He was growing dizzy.

He could feel the front of his underwear become even wetter. His cock was pulsing. Come was staining his underwear. He had come while being choked on Simon Snow’s cock.

“Pity.” The sound of a zipper could be heard and then the sound of someone peeing resounded in the room.

Baz weakly pawed at Simon’s leg. When the door closed with a creak, Simon yanked Baz off his cock again. Baz gasped for breath. It sounded so unbelievably loud in the otherwise quiet restroom. He was shaking all over as his body was riddled with the aftershocks of his orgasm. He was still drooling and couldn’t stop.

“Do you want me to come down your throat or up your ass?” Simon asked. His body felt like it would explode at any moment. Baz looked fucking beautiful all fucked out. Gone was the haughty air that he carried like a shield, only a wreck of shivering pleasure was left. Simon licked his lips.

“W-what?” Baz managed to croak out. The world felt fuzzy and out of focus. He felt like he was floating.

“Where do you want my come? Throat or ass?” Simon asked with a low growl. Even the slightest touch would bring him over the edge now. Even though it seemed impossible, Baz flushed even redder.

He opened his mouth and Simon heard his nonverbal answer clearly. He yanked Baz back down and shoved his cock in Baz’s waiting open mouth. Tight heat enveloped him and as Baz tried to swallow, his throat tightly enclosed his cock. It did not take more for him to fall over the edge. A low moan left his lips as his dick twitched and spurted come down Baz’s throat.

It was so much. Too much. With a sputtering cough, Baz had to pull off of Simon’s cock. Some of the come spurted onto his face. It was overflowing in his mouth. Somehow he managed to swallow it down. A few drops dribbled out of the corner of his mouth. He was a mess, but there was no sight that was more arousing to Simon.

Baz gasped for breath. It felt like there was come still stuck in his throat, and no matter how much he swallowed, he could not get rid of it. Before he could react, Simon had yanked him forward and covered his mouth with his own.

Simon was not disturbed by the taste of his own come on Baz’s tongue. Instead it made him feel hot all over. Their tongues danced with each other till their breath ran out and they had to break apart for much needed air.

“Let me take care of you,” Simon whispered as he kissed Baz’s throat. His hand snaked into the front of Baz’s pants only to find that Baz had already come. His underwear was sticky and drenched with his own come.

“Oh, you came already?” Simon said as he pulled his now wet hand out of Baz underwear. Baz nodded, and as he shifted he could not help but wince.

“T-Take it out,” Baz almost pleaded. The plug felt uncomfortable and it was edging onto pain.

“The plug?” Simon asked as he slowly pushed his hand down Baz’s pants.

“What else,” Baz hissed in a wrecked voice. Simon pulled down his underwear and roughly grabbed a hold of the base of the plug.

“You forgot the magic word,” Simon cooed in fake disappointment.

“Snow!” Baz snarled as he glared at Simon’s smug looking face.

“Wrong name, and that is not a request,” Simon said as he ground the plug deeper into Baz, who whined weakly.

“Please take it out, Simon,” Baz whined.

“Good boy,” Simon said as he kissed the side of Baz’s head. He pulled the plug out in one smooth motion. Another whine left Baz’s lips as he was suddenly empty and his hole clenched down around nothing. He could feel a bit of Simon’s come drip out of his hole. A mewl escaped his mouth at the sensation.

Simon grabbed some toilet paper and gently started to wipe the come off of him, afterwards pulling Baz’s underwear and pants back up.

“Where am I supposed to put this?” Simon asked as he held the plug in his hand. He did not have large enough pockets or a bag to put it in. He could hardly walk around the club with a plug in his hand.

“Your problem, Snow,” Baz said as he slowly rose. He would not put a plug that had laid on a club bathroom floor back into his asshole. His legs felt weak and he could really sympathize with newborn foals right this moment. His voice still sounded wrecked. Before Simon could retort something, Baz unlocked the stall door. He stepped towards the basins. With each step he could feel the come slowly drip out of his hole and stain his underwear. He bit his lips. 

No matter how much he tried, the appearance as though he had some form of sexual intercourse remained obvious. His eyes had at least returned to normal. He cleaned his face but the tell tale flush remained.

“Keep your hands to yourself for the rest of the shift,” Baz said as he pointed his finger at him.

“Bazzz,” Simon whined.

“No buts, Snow!” Baz said with a glare as he slowly walked out of the rest room. Simon remained standing there with the plug still in his hands. Baz’s legs felt shaky. His throat felt raw and his voice was wrecked. Each movement stained his underwear anew. It was wet and clinging to his skin. No matter how much he tried to squeeze his hole shut it still trickled out of him. When he returned to the bar, his colleague glared at him. Soon he was swamped with drink orders, so he no longer had time to think about their public bathroom sex. It was a welcome distraction. After a while Simon returned as well and made himself comfortable in his corner. The buttplug was nowhere in sight. Baz did not want to know what he had done with it. Hopefully no unsuspecting club visitor would stumble upon it. 

This time, Baz tried to keep a tight reign on his pheromones. It was hard. Never before were his pheromones this potent. Him being full and no longer hungry was making a major difference in his power. Maybe if he had been at full power, he would not have been so easily subdued by that hellhound. He shuddered at the memory.

Once the last patron left, Simon drove him home. He walked Baz up to the apartment door.

“Will you stay?” Baz asked softly and Simon kissed him gently in answer.

“As long as you want me to,” he murmured.

Always, Baz thought, but did not voice it aloud. He took Simon by the hand and led him towards his room. Baz took a shower and thoroughly cleaned himself. He had to banish Simon from the bathroom or else he would have been dirtied all over again. Simon’s heated gaze was lethal. Only after he was done and dressed did he allow Simon back into the bathroom. They brushed their teeth side by side before falling into bed together. Baz had changed the sheets beforehand, and he nuzzled into Simon’s warm embrace.

“What are we, Baz?” Simon asked as they lay beneath the blanket of darkness.

“Whatever we want to be,” Baz murmured back sleepily. He burrowed deeper into Simon’s embrace.

“Lovers? Boyfriends?” Simon whispered into Baz’s hair.

“Both sounds good,” Baz admitted.

“My boyfriend and lover,” Simon hummed in contentment.

Baz couldn't suppress the smile that rose to his lips. Simon Snow was his boyfriend. It felt like a miracle, but he felt too sore for it to be a dream.

“Baz?” Simon asked.

“Yes?” Baz answered with false annoyance.

“Do you enjoy when I take command during sex?” Simon asked.

Baz froze at the sudden blunt question. He was blushing again and was very thankful for the darkness that hid his expression from Simon.

“What?” he managed to croak out.

“Is it okay for me to lead during sex?” Simon worded his question differently.

“Crowley, Snow, if I didn’t enjoy it, I would tell you,” Baz said with a groan.

“Please. I do not want to do something you hate,” Simon said as he kissed Baz on the top of his head.

“I loved when you made me choke on your dick. You didn’t hurt me,” Baz stated bluntly. This time Simon was the one that flushed red.

“You liked it a lot, didn’t you?” Simon said as his hand trailed up and down Baz’s spine.

“Yes, I did,” Baz admitted honestly through gritted teeth. It felt like showing a weakness. He hated the feeling.

“You enjoy a bit of pain,” Simon whispered.

“I might,” Baz admitted reluctantly.

“It’s ridiculously hot. You are ridiculously hot,” Simon said with a groan and Baz chuckled.

“Do we need a safeword?” Simon asked after a few moments of silence.

“As soon as I say red, we stop, all right?” Baz said, and he felt Simon nod in agreement.

“Yes,” Simon answered in a soft voice. “We will figure it out,” Simon promised. He did not only mean the sex, but also the whole situation with the one that did the binding ritual on Baz. They would find him and stop him.

“We will,” Baz answered, and Simon’s arms tightened around Baz. There was no way that Simon would allow any more harm to befall Baz. No way in hell would he let that bastard near Baz again.

Baz felt inexplicably safe in Simon’s arms. He was surrounded by his scent and his warmth. He hoped that no nightmares would come to haunt him. His eyes drifted close. Simon and Baz fell asleep at the same time. Their breaths mingled with each other’s as they slept through the night.


	13. Out for Mercy and Pain

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry for the delay. Here are the next two chapters with gorgeous art by Kris ♥️

The sound of loud cursing pulled Simon from his slumber. The morning sun had flooded the room in warm light. So early in the morning yet Fiona was already cursing up a storm. With a groan, he turned around and landed face first in silky smooth hair. He blinked awake.

Baz was laying in his arms, still deeply asleep. Apparently he was used to the loud ruckus Fiona made early in the morning. He looked so peaceful. Simon could not resist and gently kissed his cheek. Baz wrinkled his nose but remained deeply asleep. A smile that must be utterly besotted spread across Simon’s features.

Carefully as not to wake Baz, he sneaked out of bed. Somehow he managed to get dressed and freshen up without Baz waking up at all. Softly, he closed the door behind him as he left the room to head towards the kitchen. His stomach was growling. He was damn hungry.

“Good morning,” Simon said as he saw Fiona drinking a cup of black coffee.

“Morning, Baz still asleep?” she asked with a grin that edged on a leer.

“Yup,” Simon said as he opened the fridge. There were some eggs. He grabbed those, deciding to make scrambled eggs for both him and Baz.

“Tired him right out, didn’t you?” Fiona said with a smirk. Simon blushed, but decided to ignore her. Maybe then she would not make any more comments.

“Want some eggs as well?” he asked Fiona as he searched the cabinets for a pan.

“No thanks,” Fiona said as she leaned against the counter and watched Simon work. “You do know that I will crack you apart like one of these eggs, if you ever hurt him?” Fiona asked idly as she took another gulp of her coffee.

“I know,” Simon said as he looked straight at Fiona. “I don’t want to hurt him.” Simon admitted with a sigh. Whatever Fiona had wanted to say in answer got lost as Baz walked into the kitchen. She pushed another steaming mug over to him and Baz wordlessly took a large gulp of coffee. He shuffled over to Simon’s side till they were almost touching.

“Morning,” Simon smiled sunnily at him. Baz only grunted in answer.

“Lost your voice from all the screaming in pleasure?” Fiona asked with a teasing smirk.

“Fuck off, Fiona,” Baz croaked out. At the sound of his voice, Fiona burst out laughing. Simon winced. Baz’s voice was still wrecked, though it did sound better than it had yesterday night.

“He wrecked you good,” Fiona said with a whistle after her laughter died. Simon was flushing bright red. He did not know where to look. So he fidgeted with the eggs.

“Get lost,” Baz’s glare could skin people alive. Fiona seemed entirely immune. She only smirked more.

“Drink the honey tea. I need to go,” Fiona said as she grabbed her spike-covered purse. “Don’t wreck him too much,” Fiona added with a wink towards Simon. Baz threw the pepper shaker towards her. She evaded gracefully and laughed. With a bang, the apartment door fell shut. Baz let out a long-suffering sigh.

“Good morning,” Simon said again before he kissed Baz on the lips. Baz responded eagerly and soon they were kissing in earnest. They only stopped when their eggs nearly burned.

They sat down at the table in the kitchen. Their feet remained entangled in each other. Each time their eyes met, they could not help themselves from smiling at each other.

Their peaceful morning was rudely interrupted by the shrill ringing of Simon’s phone.

“Hello?” Baz watched as Simon’s expression grew increasingly more serious the longer the call went on. “I will be there as soon as possible.” He assured before hanging up.

“What’s wrong?” Baz asked. The honey tea seemed like a miracle; his voice was almost completely normal again. Only a rough edge remained.

“There has been another victim,” Simon said as he shoveled the last bit of scrambled egg into his mouth. Just as he was scrambling to find his jacket, he realized that he would be leaving Baz all alone. The apartment had amazing defensive wards, but the thought of letting Baz out of sight made his skin crawl. Only after they caught the bastard that had done this to Baz would Simon be able to leave him.

“Do you want to come with me?” Simon blurted out.

“Won’t the police say something?” Baz asked with an arched brow as he drank the last bit of his tea.

“Doesn’t matter,” Simon said with a shrug.

“If I get into trouble, you will shoulder the blame,” Baz warned with narrowed eyes.

“I will take it gladly,” Simon said with a grin.

“Fine. Give me a moment. I am not leaving the house like this,” Baz said with a snort and pointed at his sleep-rumbled appearance. Simon liked it. Soft Baz was one of his favorite versions of Baz. Though Simon had to agree with him, he should change. Simon did not want to show anyone else this side of Baz.

It only took Baz a few minutes to step out of his room impeccably dressed. Not a hair was out of place, and his look of haughty indifference had slipped over his face like a cold mask. No one would believe how Simon had taken him apart the night before.

They arrived at the crime scene. Again the victim was found in an empty alleyway, this time behind a grocery store. It was another elderly lady. Her neck was bitten bloody and she had a soft smile on her bloodless lips.

Police were everywhere and, as Baz had expected, he was not allowed past the tape. Simon did not want to leave him until finally Baz forced him to look at the victim. Still, Simon kept glancing towards Baz as if to make sure that he had not disappeared. The police eyed him, but didn’t comment. Baz could faintly smell the stench of sulfur in the air, but surprisingly it did not come from the crime scene. It was not nearly the overpowering stench he remembered the hellhound had exuded like a thick cloud of miasma.

It came from the corner of the alleyway. Baz slowly walked towards it. Next to the drain something black was spread out. Baz kneeled down and slowly reached out to touch it. It was black liquid. He raised his stained finger and sniffed. It smelled like iron and sulfur.

He looked up and he could see more specks of the black blood scattered across the sidewalk. The drops of blood were leading somewhere.

“Snow!” Baz called.

“What? What’s wrong?” Simon was at his side faster than he could blink.

“I found something,” Baz said as he held out his stained fingers.

“Blood,” Simon said and his eyes widened as Baz pointed towards the tracks left on the pavement.

“Whoever killed that woman somehow got injured,” Baz said as he pulled a handkerchief out of his pocket to clean his hand.

“It might lead us directly to them,” Simon said with an eager grin. He grabbed a hold of Baz’s wrist and started dragging him along.

“Isn’t it a bad idea to go alone?” Baz asked as he trailed after Snow. The black blood drops could clearly be seen on the pavement.

“We will manage. I did send Penny a text though.” Simon said with a grin as he held up his phone.

“At least they will know where to find out corpses,” Baz muttered. Simon either ignored him or hadn’t heard him. They kept following the trail till they ended up at the edge of the park. Baz came to a stop. The trees seemed to loom over him even in broad daylight.

“Will you be alright?” Simon asked with a worried frown. The trail seemed to be leading straight through the park. Straight to the spot where Baz was kidnapped.

“I will be fine,” Baz said as he clenched his fists. He could feel the anxiety and fear try to rise, but there was no way in hell he would give in. Simon took a hold of his hand and laced their fingers together. Baz squeezed his hand in thanks.

“Tell me if it gets too much,” Simon whispered as he raised Baz’s hand and lightly kissed his knuckles. Baz felt his breath catch. Beneath the sunlight, Simon seemed almost ethereal. Baz nodded.

Slowly they stepped into the park. Baz watched their surroundings warily. Like he expected something to jump out of the bushes at any moment. Unconsciously, he kept decreasing the distance between him and Simon. In the end, they walked side by side, so close that their arms kept brushing against each other.

Baz came to a stuttering stop. They had reached the corner of the park where Baz had been taken. A shudder traveled down his spine.

He could clearly remember the sulfur that coated the air. The sound of snapping teeth and the sick scent of burned flesh. He clenched his eyes shut.

“You’re safe,” Simon whispered as he kissed Baz softly on the lips.

“I know,” Baz whispered. Still, it was hard to shake off the shadows that haunted him in this place.

“Let’s not remain here,” Simon said as he led Baz away. The blood trail led them through the park and out the other side.

The specks of blood were becoming less and less. At the start of the bridge, the blood disappeared completely.

“Damn it!” Simon cursed. They had lost the trail.

Baz could still smell the scent of blood and sulfur in the air though. As soon as they crossed the bridge, it disappeared. Only on the bridge, the scent permeated the air.

“Can they be beneath us?” Baz thought out loud.

“Beneath the bridge?” Simon asked. He started looking around and sure enough, there was a small gate that hid steep stone steps behind it. The gate was unlocked. The iron lock had become more rust than metal over time. It had cleanly snapped into two. On the stone steps, there was another drop of blood. Slowly they walked down the steps. Everything was overgrown. They had to move thorns and twigs out of their way. The noise of the river got louder and louder the lower they climbed. A low hissing sound accompanied by a low growl echoed.

They came to a sudden stop. Beneath the bridge, hidden behind moist carports, something was growling at them. The sound echoing across the damp space. Simon pushed Baz behind him. His sword appeared in his hand.

“It’s a child,” Baz whispered.

“What?” Simon asked as he looked with wide eyes at Baz. He returned his gaze towards the form huddled in the furthest corner.

It was indeed a child. So skinny that it looked more like twigs and bones. Horns poked out of matted hair and a tail laid next to it. The tail was crooked and seemed to be broken in many places. It was hunched over, its spine in an unnatural from. One arm was gone. Half of its face seemed as if it had been burned.

Drip, drip. The blood hit the stone. A large gash that reached across the child’s collarbone kept bleeding. The black blood did not seem to be stopping.

  


Baz slowly stepped out from behind Simon and cautiously walked towards it. With a hiss, it opened its mouth to reveal sharp fangs. There was still blood smeared all around its mouth.

“Hey there, sweetheart,” Baz said as he slowly walked closer. The child was barefoot and the clothes it was wearing were more a rag than actual clothes. A growl left blood-stained lips.

No wonder Simon had thought that the murderer did not know how to drink, it was a child. A child that seemed homeless and abandoned.

Simon slowly moved closer as well. He could see scar marks and what seemed to be scars from chains around its bare ankles and wrists. On its arm there were puncture marks that looked like they were made from needles. Uneven sutures ran across its legs. The skin was discoloured, and it almost seemed like it was rotting away. There were scars around the mouth. Beneath the blood, it looked almost like the healed wounds had once sewed that child’s mouth shut. White-hot anger raced through Simon. How could someone do this to a child?

“I’m just like you,” Baz murmured as he dropped his glamour. His tail moved in agitation, whereas his face was calm. Simon could not help the way his eyes traveled across the shiny horns nestled between dark hair. Baz’s looked healthy, whereas the child’s were cracked and one was broken.

The child’s growls slowly ceased. Its eyes widened in curiosity. Baz slowly moved closer. The child watched him wearily. As soon as Simon took a step forward, another snarl left it’s lips.

“Stay where you are, Snow,” Baz whispered.

“Be careful,” Simon murmured as he forced himself not to move forward. He wanted to help, but it seemed that he was only making it worse.

“Do you want some chocolate?” Baz asked as he pulled a piece of crumbled chocolate out of his jacket pocket. He unwrapped it before he reached out with his arm and the child did the same. With trembling hands, he took the chocolate. Greedily, the child swallowed it down.

“What’s your name?” Baz asked as he slowly sat down. A shrug was his only answer.

“Where are you parents?” Baz asked softly. Another shrug was the answer he received.

“Do you have a home?” Baz asked in a voice that was nothing more than a whisper. A shake of its head.

“Is this your home?” Baz asked as he pointed around himself. The child's breaths were laboured and Simon bit his lip in worry. The child shrugged.

“Where did you stay previously?” Baz asked. The murders had been happening within the last two months. The child must have been somewhere previously.

The child scrambled backwards, a cough that rattled its lung escaping its pale lips. Fear shone in its widened eyes.

“Shhh, I am not going to hurt you,” Baz whispered as he raised his hand as if to offer comfort. He let them drop when the child flinched.

“We will not take you there. Promise,” Simon said with a calm voice as he tried to make himself appear the least threatening as possible.

“Cage.” The voice was eerie. Like it had an echo while it sounded like chalk scraping across a blackboard. It made Simon’s hairs stand up.

“Where was the cage?” Baz propped gently.

“Cross,” the child said with a shrug.

“Was it in a church?” Simon asked slowly. The child glanced towards him before nodding hesitantly.

“Damn it,” Simon cursed. It was the same damn bastard. He felt sick.

“Did a bad man hurt you there?” Baz asked softly. He suppressed the shiver of remembered fear.

“Blood, lots of blood,” the child murmured as it nodded. Another cough wracked its small frame. Baz was horrified at the blood that left pale lips and dripped down the small chin.

“We need to get them to a hospital,” Simon said as he ran a nervous hand through his hair.

“I think it’s too late,” Baz whispered as he watched the child shiver. Its eyes were growing dimmer.

“Do you remember his face?” Baz asked as he slowly scooted closer. The child made a vague motion above his lips before a cough made it bend over. The tiny body shaking so hard that it looked like it would fall apart right this moment. Simon had to look away to keep his composure.

“He had a beard?” Baz asked. The child nodded before another coughing fit caused it to double over. He coughed till he threw up. Black blood splattered across the stone.

“Were you born a demon?” Baz asked as he hesitantly reached out and touched the child. It was cold. So, so cold. Like touching ice. The child watched Baz’s hand in wonder before slowly shaking its head.

“You needed the blood to survive,” Baz whispered softly. He had been the same. Though he had gotten pig’s blood from the butcher. During his school days, he survived on the blood of the rats in the catacombs. When he reached adulthood, he had to switch to sexual energy. He had never been hurt so badly, forced to live on the street and forced to kill to live.

“You didn’t want to hurt them,” Baz said with a sad little smile. He gently brushed the dirt and blood off the child’s cheek. Tears rose in the child’s eyes till they spilled down.

“Kind,” the child murmured. Baz did not know whom he meant. The people that died or him.

“Their body is failing,” Baz said as he pulled a tissue out of his pocket and gently dried the tears that kept falling.

“Why?” Simon asked as he slowly moved closer. There was no snarl this time. It looked like the child had exhausted themselves with their tears. The little energy it had left was disappearing much faster than expected. Simon itched to do something. Anything to help, but even he could see that it seemed to be far too late.

“Their body is still mortal. The demonic energy is destroying them from the inside,” Baz said as he gently pulled the child towards him. Cracks had appeared all over the pale skin. He did not care that his clothes were getting ruined by blood and dirt. Simon kneeled down beside him. Confusion spread across the child’s face as Baz wrapped it in warmth.

“Did the bad man experiment on you?” Baz asked, and the nod he got in answer made his blood freeze. He might have ended up just like that. Experimented on till his body could no longer take it. He shivered. Simon’s hand on his lower back bought him back into the present. Simon was watching him with a worried frown. Baz sent him a small sad smile before refocusing onto the dying child in his arms. Simon hesitantly laid his hands on the child’s knee. He could feel the bones through the flimsy fabric of the trousers.

The child watched with wide eyes.

“Warm.” Their whisper was interrupted by another cough.

“Simon is like a portable furnace,” Baz remarked with a smile.

“You’re a walking fridge,” Simon grumbled with a sigh as he gently started to rub one hand up and down the child’s back. A smile cracked the otherwise bloodless lips. The child was struggling to keep its eyes open. The sound of rasping breathing was growing fainter and fainter.

“Is there really nothing we can do?” Simon asked as his voice cracked. 

“Nothing I know of,” Baz said with a grimace. He was clearly in pain from seeing this child dying. This was no place for a dying child. Simon fished out his phone. Even if they could not help them, they could at least offer them a better place to fall into eternal sleep. He quickly dialed a number on his phone.

“Ebb?” Simon asked. As he heard her warm voice through the speaker, tears shot into his eyes. He suppressed the sniffle that wanted to break free.

“There’s a dying child beneath the bridge towards the university. Demonic energy is eating them from the inside out,” Simon started to explain. Not even a heartbeat later, Ebb’s voice promised that she would be there.

“It’s okay,” Baz whispered as he ran a gentle hand through the child’s hair. Its tiny hand was holding onto Baz’s clothes like their life depended on it. 

It felt like hours, but Simon could hear the thundering of hooves in the distance. A breath of relief left him. Baz looked up from where he had been murmuring words of comfort towards the child who was still laying in his lap. 

“Ebb!” Simon called as she stepped beneath the bridge. She was sitting on top of a goat that was the size of a small car. Thick black fur and golden eyes that seemed to stare into his very soul. She slowly got down from the goat and walked towards them.

“Oh, the poor dear,” she murmured as she kneeled down besides Baz.

“Is there anything you can do?” Baz asked as he clutched the child to his chest. He could hear the feeble heartbeat resound in the small chest. The tiny heart was struggling to keep on beating.

“This is no place for a child,” Ebb said as she gently held out her hand. Reluctantly Baz released his hold on the child and allowed Ebb to gather it into her arms. The small hand still clutched his jacket.

“It’s okay,” Baz said as he tried to gently remove the trembling fingers.

“No one is going to hurt you anymore,” Simon’s voice cracked in the middle, and he had to forcefully bite his lip to stop the sound that wanted to escape him.

“You’re safe,” Ebb said as she slowly lifted the child. Like it weighed nothing more than a feather.

“Ebb,” Simons voice trembled around her name.

“No child will be harmed under my watch,” she promised as she gently smiled at Simon. Beneath the reassurance, Simon could feel wrath sizzle in the air. Ebb would protect them till her last breath. No hellhound would get to this child. The reason it appeared at all the crime scenes was because it had been hunting the child. It most likely took Baz because he was also part demon. 

“Please live,” Baz whispered as he gently ran a hand through the tangled and matted hair. 

Ebb swung back onto the goat, the child safely held in her arms. With one last smile she disappeared, the thundering of hooves echoing. 

The tears that Simon had been trying to hold back rolled down his cheeks. It hurt. A child’s life should not be filled with pain. They were so fragile and defenseless. It was a miracle that it had survived till now. That it had not been eaten by the demonic energy. How could someone torment a child? How could someone hurt and experiment on a defenseless child? Only a monster could hurt them. Only a fucking monster.

Baz lowered his head so that his hair was blocking his face, but Simon could clearly see his trembling fist. His nails were digging into his skin.

With the softest touch, Simon brushed his hair aside. Tears were gathered in his eyes. Anguish was clearly written all over Baz’s face. It hurt Simon’s heart as if it was pierced by a thousand needles.

Simon pulled Baz into a bone crushing hug. Baz was shaking and Simon did not say a word about the tears that started to soak into the fabric of his jacket. His own tears were falling into Baz’s black hair.

He did not know how long they sat there, crying into each other’s embrace. When they finally parted, Simon called the police to inform them that they had found the hideout. If they didn’t inform them, someone else would. They did not tell a soul about the child.

One grueling interview after the other, they could finally leave the police station. By the time they reached the apartment, they were utterly exhausted. Both their eyes were red-rimmed and Baz’s clothes were smeared with blood and dirt. Neither Fiona nor Penny were in the apartment as they stepped past the threshold.

Simon clung to Baz after they showered and had fallen into bed. Penny had visited their apartment and brought him a fresh set of clothes and a pair of soft pajamas that Simon gladly changed into.

This could have been Baz. The one that almost died could have been Baz, if that monster had had him just a moment longer. Simon’s grip on Baz tightened. Baz was resting his ear over Simon’s heart. Reassurances were whispered to each other. Both trying to comfort the other. With the softest words still on their lips they fell asleep.

The next morning the police called. They had managed to ID some of the blood. It belonged the child. It was an orphan who had disappeared from one of the orphanages in the city. They had never found a trace till now. They had hardly looked, just stamping them as a runaway. Simon could imagine that it could have just as well been him. Someone that no one knew, someone that no one wanted. Baz hugged him tight. He knew just how much Simon was empathizing with the child. He was no better. Both had been demons, monsters. Created, not born. Both had struggled with their hunger. The only difference was that he had a support system. He had had his family, as weird as they could be. He was thankful for his aunt, his father, his step mum and his siblings. Without them, he did not know what might have become of him. He would have probably already burnt himself into ash.

It felt like someone was clawing at his heart when he thought about how that child never got a chance. Never got a chance to grow. The time that should be filled with blissful happiness was filled with pain and blood. It lost its innocence far too soon. No child should kill to survive.

Simon gently kissed the tears away. Baz reached out and kissed him on the lips. He did not know how long they kissed. There was no urgency, only the soft glide of lips against lips. There was no hunger, only the gentleness of comfort.

The shrill ringing of a phone interrupted their kiss. Simon left one last lingering kiss on Baz’s red lips before he blindly reached for his phone. The caller ID clearly displayed the Mage’s office. With a frown, he dropped the phone and let it ring.

“You are not going to answer?” Baz whispered softly. As much as he loathed the Mage he knew just how dedicated Simon was to the man.

“I will call back later,” Simon said as he gently brushed a strand of hair out of Baz’s face. Baz eyebrows nearly reached his hairline. Usually Simon jumped as soon as the Mage said so. No matter how much Baz asked, Simon didn’t tell him why.


	14. Guided by Lust

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Enjoy ~ ♥️

Their haven of two was interrupted when Penny announced that breakfast was done. She knocked and shouted at them through the door, even though Simon tried to repeatedly assure her that they were decent. Fiona was already at the kitchen table, her eyes bloodshot. It seemed like she was at her fourth cup of coffee.

Simon started eating his breakfast with gusto. Table manners were something that he had never learned. Both Baz and Fiona were watching him with a disgusted expression. Penny was ignoring the massacre that was happening next to her as she flipped the pages in the newspaper.

“Did you find anything?” Baz asked as he took a sip of his coffee.

“Nothing,” Penny said with a disgruntled sigh.

“Malcom and I went to the church. Everything has disappeared, as if it had never been there,” Fiona said with a growl as she ran a frustrated hand through her hair.

“No clue at all?” Simon asked as he chewed.

“No talking with your mouth full,” Baz admonished with a glare.

“Sorry,” Simon said after he swallowed. Baz rolled his eyes.

“There is not a single trace of the man that bound Baz,” Penny said as she put her newspaper down. Beneath her eyes there were clear dark circles. It seemed she had pulled an all nighter.

“We found the murderer,” Baz admitted softly. The whole story spilled from his lips. After he finished, Fiona started cursing up a storm.

“Fucking bastard,” Fiona hissed.

“He has been doing this for years.” Penny said with a sigh. There had been so many old bones in the pile. So many small ones. They did not want to think about how many children had perished beneath that abandoned church.

“We need to find that bastard,” Simon said with a growl.

“Easier said than done,” Fiona said with frustrated curse. The rest of their breakfast was consumed in silence. Simon and Baz left as soon as they could. Simon let Cherry roar to life beneath him as Baz’s arms wrapped around his torso. With a squeak of the tires, he drove out. 

The meadow leading to Ebb’s café remained unchanged. The sheep and goats were still grazing as if everything was peaceful. Trepidation sat heavily in their stomachs as they walked up the path. Dread was growing. The worst thing would be for the child to have died while they had blissfully slept. 

The door swung open with a chime. 

“Oh, welcome,” Ebb said with a smile as she handed each of them a cup of hot chocolate. The heat seeped through their skin and spread throughout their body. Alone the smell slowly relaxed muscles that were wound far to tight. 

“How is the child?” Baz asked as he clutched the cup. 

“Alive. Nico is watching over them,” Ebb said with a smile. “Follow me,” Ebb said as she led them towards a door beside the kitchen. Simon could swear that the door hadn’t been there before. A creaky old staircase lay behind it. On the top, a long corridor lay. Ebb knocked on the first door.

“How are they, Nico?” Ebb asked as she bustled into the room, a tray of something red and steaming in her hand.

“No change,” a voice grunted back. A man was sitting in the armchair next to the bed. His eyes were hard and sharp. Everything about him screamed danger. Baz watched him with wary eyes. 

In the bed among plush covers the child lay. They looked like they would disappear among the pillows and blankets. Gentle breaths rattled in the tiny chest. The feeling of sickness still clung to the child like a second skin. Yet the stench of death no longer trailed after them.

“Your blood worked wonderfully,” Ebb said with a smile as she handed the cup to the man. As he raised it to take a sip, sharp fangs glinted in the light. Baz froze next to Simon. He clenched his hands into fists. 

This man was a vampire. The same kind of being that caused his mother’s demise. Baz bit his lip. Old hatred rose within him, but one glance at the sleeping child, and it subsided like glowing embers. 

“Will they ever wake up?” Simon asked with a worried tilt to his voice. 

“Only time will tell,” Ebb said as she gently ran her fingers through the child's hair. 

“How did you save them?” Baz asked as he sat down on the edge of the bed.

“Vampires can detoxify any type of blood,” Ebb explained with a smile. “Even demonic energy,” Ebb added. “Nico was so kind and gave me some of his blood and he drank a lot of the bad blood.” Ebb smiled at the man who seemed to squirm beneath her proud gaze.

“Ugh.” A noise of discomfort left the man's lips, as if gratitude in itself was painful. “I’m leaving,” Nico said with a grimace.

“Nicodemus, thank you,” Ebb said with a smile.

“Don’t thank me, little sister,” Nico said with a grunt. His lips almost pulled into a smile. 

“Nicodemus?!” Simon called and with a crash, his cup of hot chocolate crashed onto the floor. 

“Yes?” Nicodemus said with a haughty arch of his brow. 

“He mentioned you,” Simon managed to get out as he was still caught in his shock.

“Who?” he asked in confusion.

“The man that did this to this child,” Baz said as he pointed at the sleeping child. Nicodemus froze and turned around towards them.

“Explain,” he gritted out. 

“We found a book with his procedures. Your name was mentioned. Apparently you refused a deal,” Baz explained haltingly. 

“I refused many deals. Around which year?” Nicodemus asked with a cold expression.

“Around fifteen years ago,” Simon said.

“Ah,” Nicodemus said with a cold snort. “The bastard wanted us to kidnap children out of the nursery of Watford. We refused. Children are off limits,” Nicodemus said. “My sister would kill me,” he added almost as an afterthought. 

“We?” Simon asked.

“My coven and I,” Nicodemus said.

“Did someone else take the deal?” Baz asked with urgency. All the colour had drained out of his face. 

“No idea. It’s possible,” Nicodemus said with a shrug. Baz was trembling.

“Baz?” Simon asked as he tried to reach out and touch Baz. He flinched away from Simon’s touch. He was staring at Simon with wide eyes. 

“I-” Whatever else Baz wanted to say was interrupted as he slapped a hand over his mouth and ran outside. 

“Baz!” Simon called after him in alarm. 

Oh god. Baz was going to be sick. Somehow he managed to run outside. He threw up behind one of the trees in the meadow. He coughed. 

The bastard that had kidnapped him was involved in his mother’s death. The vampires had been after the children. His mother had protected them and died for it. 

“Baz?” Simon’s hesitant voice called from behind him.

“He killed her,” Baz managed to croak out. Tears clung to his lashes. 

“Killed who?” Simon asked gently as he pulled Baz’s into his arms.

“My mother,” Baz said as the tears spilled forth. Simon held him all the tighter. It felt like his heart was breaking all over again. As if he had to learn that his mother was dead all over again. It hurt.

Simon tightly hugged him. His warm embrace felt unbearably soothing. Baz did not know for how long he cried in Simon’s arms. His eyes were red and puffy when he raised his head. Simon’s face was marred with a worried frown. 

“I want him to pay,” Baz managed to get out. Heartbreak and rage were swirling in his stomach like the most potent cocktail of revenge.

“He will. We will make him pay,” Simon growled as he hugged Baz tightly once more. Baz believed him. He clung to him, seeking the comfort that Simon’s warm presence promised.

Once Fiona learned about it, she disappeared. When she returned, she smelled of fire and ash. Her eyes were as hard as steel. They sat in the living room, all four of them, with dark expressions. 

“All of our leads have led us to a dead end,” Penny concluded.

“Lead,” Baz muttered the word as a thoughtful expression washed over his features.

“Can we drag him out somehow?” Simon asked.

“How?” Fiona asked with an annoyed sigh.

“We will figure something out,” Penny stated confidently as she patted Simon’s shoulder. Beneath her touch, Simon was buzzing with agitation. He needed to do something. He felt utterly useless.

“We don’t have to drag him out,” Baz said suddenly. All three turned towards him. “We can turn up right at his doorstep,” Baz said with a smirk.

“You have a plan?” Fiona asked with an interested light in her eyes. Baz nodded.

“I stop fighting the call,” Baz said with a shrug.

“You want to use yourself as a bait,” Simon summarised flatly.

“If I am already bound to him, let's use it,” Baz said with a confident smirk.

“No,” Simon protested with a growl.

“What I do is still not up to you, Snow,” Baz said with a roll of his eyes.

“You could lead us right to him,” Penny said with a thoughtful look.

“No way. It’s too dangerous.” Simon was completely opposed to the idea. He did not want to leave Baz defenseless and not in his right mind. He did not want that bastard to be anywhere near Baz.

“It’s our best bet,” Baz said as he crossed his arms.

“Baz, no,” Simon said. The expression with which he looked at Baz was almost pleading.

“It might be our only chance to get close to him,” Fiona said. She wasn’t happy about it either.

“Can you still hear the call?” Penny asked.

“Always. It’s like a constant itch,” Baz confirmed.

“You didn’t tell me that,” Simon said with a wounded expression.

“I didn’t want you to worry,” Baz said as his expression softened. “It’s manageable.”

“I still worry,” Simon retorted with a huff.

“Do you have a headache?” Fiona asked with a frown.

“Yes,” Baz admitted reluctantly.

“The Binding spell is getting worse,” Fiona concluded with an unhappy expression.

“So we have to find him soon,” Baz said with a sigh as Simon watched him with worried eyes.

“We need some kind of tracking spell on you in case we lose sight of you,” Penny said as she tapped her chin in thought.

“One that’s undetectable,” Fiona added.

“Baz?” Simon asked softly. He took a hold of his hand beneath the table.

“Yes?” Baz said as he his grey eyes looked at him.

“Can we-” Simon did not know how to continue the sentence. He needed to be alone with Baz. He was afraid. He needed to hold him.

Baz for once did not ask him to use his words. Instead he watched Simon silently for a moment. He seemed to understand what he wanted. What Simon needed. He pushed his chair back and pulled Simon towards his bedroom.

“Have fun! Enjoy the sexy times,” Fiona drawled out with a leer. “While we do all the work!” Fiona shouted after them when Baz ignored her. Simon flushed bright red. Before he could apologize, Baz pulled him into his bedroom. The door was slammed shut with a loud bang.

All of Simon’s breath left him and heat crawled up his spine as Baz crowded him against the door. Their lips were almost touching.

“Simon, it will be alright,” Baz whispered after he placed a light, yet lingering kiss on Simon’s lips. It felt like a brand, like a promise.

“I hate it,” Simon said with an undercurrent of barely restrained anger.

“I know, but it’s the best way,” Baz said as Simon wrapped his arms around him.

“I do not want you anywhere near the fucking bastard,” Simon growled between gritted teeth. His arms tightened around Baz.

“We need to stop him. How many other people is he hurting?” Baz asked softly. He burrowed his face into Simon’s chest. His scent was all around him. It felt like he had his arms wrapped around an open fire. Oh, how he longed to be burned.

“I know, doesn’t mean I have to like it,” Simon said before he pushed Baz backwards. He roughly grabbed Baz’s chin and tilted his head up, so that their eyes had to meet. Baz suppressed the shiver that wanted to run down his spine at the sight of the fire in Simon’s eyes. “Don’t you dare get hurt.” Simon said with force. Fear and worry were mixing with his anger. The emotional cocktail simmering beneath his skin like a seething potion. Baz rolled his eyes. He could not guarantee that he would remain unhurt.

“Snow, I am not able to-” His next words were cut of when Simon’s mouth crashed onto his. Baz eyes widened in surprise as he was forcefully kissed. A tongue invaded his mouth leaving him weak in the knees. He felt dazed when Simon finally released his lips. They were probably starting to become bright red again.

“Promise me,” Simon growled. His voice was deeper and it felt like it reached into Baz’s very soul. Baz shivered.

“Brute.” The word left his mouth with a sneer.

“Baz,” Simon ground out as the hand around Baz’s hip tightened to the point that it would leave bruises. Baz hoped it would leave bruises. He loved the marks Simon left on his skin. They were a reminder that this was real. That Baz was Simon’s lover. It was better than any snowflake tattoo.

“I will try,” Baz amended with a put upon sigh that sounded entirely fake. Simon kissed him almost as if he was rewarding him. Baz lost track of time as they kissed and kissed. Their tongues danced a most sensual dance as Simon slowly pushed Baz backwards. He steered him right in the direction of the bed.

With a small squeak, which Baz would deny till his last breath, Baz’s feet hit the bedframe and he fell backwards. He looked like a beautiful painting, with his hair spread out on the blanket and his red lips. He looked like feast laid out for the starving. Simon licked his lips.

He leaned over Baz and gently kissed his lips before he slowly moved downwards to nibble at Baz’s exposed neck. His pale throat screamed to be adorned with marks. Simon started to suck at the skin. A breathy sound left Baz’s lips as he closed his eyes in pleasure. Red marks bloomed like flowers on his throat, the love bites a stark contrast to his pale skin.

Simon slowly unbuttoned his shirt till Baz’s naked chest was revealed. It looked beautiful. His pink nipples were already hard and Simon could not resist the urge to brush his fingers over them. A breathy moan was his reward. He leaned forward and gently kissed him. His hands kept on roaming across Baz’s body, pulling the most beautiful sounds from sinfully red lips.

“If it gets too much, you know the word?” Simon said as his breath caressed Baz’s ear. A shiver raced down his spine, and he nodded in answer. He feared that his voice would be all kinds of alluring. His pheromones were already spreading, yet Simon remained as unruffled as ever. Simon’s eyes were clear and only showed the hunger. The hunger of someone starving and Baz was the feast they had been presented with.

“Use your words, Baz,” Simon whispered as he trailed open mouthed kisses across his collarbone and downwards.

“Fuck you, Snow,” Baz hissed out before another sound of pleasure left his lips..

“The only one getting fucked here is you,” Simon said with a smirk. Baz glared at him, but did not protest. “And only if you tell me the word,” Simon said with a firm voice.

“Snow,” Baz said with narrowed eyes. His angry stare was interrupted by a loud moan when Simon harshly tugged at one of his nipples.

“Baz,” Simon answered in kind. He twisted the rosy bud between his fingers. In fascination, he watched as Baz scrambled to grab ahold of something.

“F-Fine. Red,” Baz gritted out as he fought against another moan that wanted to burst free.

“Good boy,” Simon whispered as he placed a gentle kiss onto Baz’s red lips. He released the abused nipple with one last harsh tug. Baz flushed and screwed his eyes shut as his body hummed in pleasure.

Simon pulled away and quickly tugged down Baz’s pants till he was only left in his underwear and socks. Simon admired the sight for a moment before he kneeled and pulled the box out from underneath the bed. With a bounce, the bottle of lube Simon threw landed on the bed next to Baz.

“You’re so wet for me already,” Simon marveled as he trailed his fingers across the wet patch Baz’s precome had left on the fabric of his briefs.. Baz turned his head away as his hips twitched eagerly into Simon’s hands. He wanted more. “So pretty,” Simon whispered as he pulled the underwear down and revealed Baz’s flushed cock. It was already leaking and Simon could see a pearl of precome dribbling out of the pink head.

“Shut up, Snow,” Baz said as he bit his lip. He raised his arms to hide his face in embarrassment.

“Wrong name,” Simon said with a glare.

“Oh, going to punish me?” Baz asked with a smirk as he peeked out between his fingers. Delicious heat crawled up his spine at the hungry gaze that slowly caressed his body. A bit of boldness might bring more pleasure. Baz shivered at the thought.

“You would like that, wouldn't you?” Simon asked with an arched brow as he sat down on the edge of the bed. Baz laid sprawled out next to him. Simon’s hand slowly stroked up and down his inner thigh.

“Scared of punishing me, Snow?” Baz asked with a lazy drawl as he spread his legs further apart. He arched his spine in a blatant display of invitation.

“Baz,” Simon ground out as he watched Baz put himself on display.

“Snow,” Baz mocked as he licked across his lips.

“Fuck you,” Simon growled as he grabbed a hold of Baz arms and forcefully pulled him into a sitting position.

A hand grabbed a hold of the back of Baz’s neck before his word was tilting. The next thing he knew, he was face to face with Simon’s clothed calf. The stray thought that Simon was still completely dressed whereas he was completely naked made his cheeks tint darker. His new position made it even worse. He was laying across Simon’s lap. His ass on balant display for Simon.

“Comfy, Baz?” Simon asked in a low purr as he laid his hand on Baz’s ass. A shiver ran down Baz’s spine as heat rushed through his veins.

“As if, Snow,” Baz said with a sneer. “Ah!” He could not suppress the noise that left his mouth at the sudden harsh spank. It left his ass cheek throbbing with heat.

“Again, Baz, that was the wrong name,” Simon said in an admonishing tone as he caressed the ass cheek he had just spanked. Baz shivered in delight. “And you did not answer my question.” Simon said while his fingers trailed over Baz’s skin. Goosebumps rose in their wake.

“Fuck off, Snow,” Baz hissed out as delicious sparks of heat spread out from his ass. He wanted more. He knew exactly what Simon wanted from him, but he only wanted to chase the feeling of heat.

A loud moan left his lips as two quick successive hits rained down on his ass, making it jiggle.

“How many spanks do you think you should get for being so mouthy?” Simon purred as he kneaded his ass.

“You love me mouthy, Snow,” Baz said as he gulped for air. His ass was tingling. The next hit was far harder than the ones before. A shout left Baz’s lips as he tried to wiggle his ass away from Simon. His cock was hard and leaking.

It should be nothing but humiliating, yet at the same time, it made his blood sing with arousal.

“I do, but still you need to be punished,” Simon whispered as one hand slowly trailed up his spine. The hand wrapped around the back of Baz’s neck. Simon squeezed lightly and for a moment Baz wondered how it would feel to have Simon’s hand around his throat.

The thought was ripped apart with the next hit.

“Ugh, ah,” Baz moaned as he was pushed forward with the force of the hit. He hoped that it would leave hand-shaped bruises on his skin.

“Twelve hits for not remembering to call me Simon and for not answering my question,” Simon murmured as he raised his hand.

“Ahhh,” Baz shouted. He moaned as he gasped for breath. His ass felt like it was slowly burning.

“Count for me, sweetheart,” Simon whispered as the hand at Baz’s neck carded into his hair and lightly scratched his scalp. For a brief moment Baz thought about defying him, but he held his tongue. He was still unsure about his own limit. Baz did not know how much punishment he could endure. He didn’t want to be forced to shout ‘red’ due to pushing himself too far.

“O-one,” Baz managed to get out as he squirmed.

  


“Good boy,” Simon whispered and watched as a delighted shiver traveled down Baz’s spine. The next hit rained down on Baz’s left ass cheek. The skin flushed a delicious red.

“Two,” Baz said as he gulped. The sting of pain felt so good. Before he could relish in the sensation, the next two hits landed on his right ass cheek in quick succession. A hoarse moan left his lips as the hits rushed along his spine, making the world spin.

“Ugh, three, f-four,” Baz moaned the numbers between his harsh panting breaths. Just the slightest touch from Simon made him see stars, and now it felt like he was floating among the galaxies.

Each hit was landing on his ass in earnest now. He never knew where he would be hit. In between, Simon’s nails scratched along his heated flesh. He squirmed and shivered over Simon’s knees. Each hit made him moan, each hit made him slowly lose his mind. With each hit, more moans and whimpers spilled from his lips.

“E-eight,” Baz whimpered as tears started to gather in his eyes. His ass felt like it was on fire and the burning was consuming his whole body. He couldn’t think. He could only take it.

“You’re doing wonderful,” Simon whispered as his hand caressed along Baz’s naked spine, leaving goose bumps in its wake. With a loud smack, the ninth hit landed on his ass. The red flesh jiggled beneath the force of the hit. A broken shout spilled from Baz’s lips till it spilled over into a whimper.

“Ni, nine.” Baz was panting with an open mouth as he squirmed. Salvia and tears were smeared across his face.

“Only three more,” Simon said as he raised his hand. Two hits landed on Baz’s ass cheeks in quick succession. A shout was torn out of his throat as he squirmed as if to escape and yet he pushed even more into Simon’s touch.

“Ten,” Baz gulped out as the tears spilled forth and dripped onto the floor. “Elev-” A whimper broke through Baz’s lips as his squirming rubbed his erection against Simon’s clothed leg. “Eleven!” He moaned as the fabric harshly rubbed against his cock.

“Good boy,” Simon murmured as he grabbed a hold of Baz’s hair and roughly tugged at it. Baz could only follow his movement and arch his spine.

Behind the last hit, Simon put more force than all the previous ones. He was rewarded with a scream. Baz squirmed on his lap as he writhed. Something wet was spilling onto his lap. Baz was shivering and squirming, his body wrecked by the aftershocks of his sudden orgasm.

“Twe-Twelve,” Baz managed to get out as the aftershocks lessened and no longer wracked his body. He had come just from getting his ass spanked. Oh god. He screwed his eyes shut. As hot as it was, it was also humiliating. He could still feel Simon’s clothed erection pressing against his side.

Before Baz could react, he felt something press against his hole. It was wet and warm. It lightly rested against his rim as if teasing him. He tried to move his head to look, but Simon had a tight hold on his hair and no matter how much he tried he couldn’t see a thing.

“Si-” A harsh moan prevented him from continuing. Without warning, two fingers were ruthlessly slammed into his ass. A high-pitched noise left his lips. His dick twitched in a feeble attempt to get hard again.

“You like that?” Simon’s voice had become husky and Baz shivered. Simon withdrew his fingers only to push them back inside again in the next heartbeat. Gasps and small whimpers escaped Baz’s lips as Simon pushed his fingers in and out.

“Ah!” Baz mewled as Simon’s fingers rubbed along this prostate. Over and over again his fingers rubbed over it. It drove Baz insane. He squirmed and trembled in his lap, but the fingers remained relentless. Drool slipped out of his panting mouth. His whole body felt like it had been set on fire. Every thought had long been blown away. He was nothing more than a creature of pleasure. His whole being was centered on that one place Simon touched.

“You take it so well,” Simon praised. He pushed a third finger inside along the first two. It burnt and sent sparks all along his spine. A breathy moan left Baz’s spit-slick lips. His muscles clenched around the fingers.

“S-Simon,” Baz moaned as the three fingers started moving. Each brush along his inner walls made him tremble. Each push against his prostate made him see stars. “Plea-” The words that Baz wanted to say escaped him as a breathy groan left his lips. The fingers were relentlessly digging into his body. “Please!” Baz moaned as the fingers brushed his prostate over and over again. With each touch it felt like an electric shock thrummed through his body. He twitched and trembled.

“Please what?” Simon asked as he watched Baz hole swallow his fingers over and over again. The rim was slowly turning red and puffy.

“F-ahh,” Baz moaned as Simon pushed his fingers against his prostate and held them there. No moving, only keeping a steady pressure. Baz’s body twitched. He did not know if he wanted to push into the sensation or flee from it. His hips squirmed.

“Yes?” Simon murmured in a hoarse voice. His own dick was rock hard. The sight of Baz coming undone in his lap was stronger than any aphrodisiac. Baz was sex personified and he was his. His to hold and touch.

“Fuck me!” Baz mewled as his hips started to move on their own as if to fuck himself on Simon’s fingers. A low growl left Simon’s lips as he grabbed ahold of Baz’s hair and forcefully yanked his head back. The fingers were pulled out of his hole. It gaped and twitched at the sudden emptiness. A startled noise left Baz’s throat before he was unceremoniously pulled off of Simon’s lap.

Suddenly cool silk sheets were beneath him, the new sensation pleasant against his overheated skin. He stained the sheets with the steady drops of precome that leaked from his cock. It was flushed dark red. The sound of a zipper opening made Baz bite his lips in anticipation. He wriggled his hips. He wanted it. Everything was hazy, the one thing he knew for sure was that he wanted to be split apart on Simon’s cock. He felt the head of Simon’s dick nudge against his entrance.

“AHHH!” Baz screamed as Simon pushed into him in one single smooth movement. It felt like he was being torn apart from the inside. Tears spilled over his cheeks as he whimpered. He felt completely, helplessly pierced on Simon’s cock. Breached wide, it felt like his hole would never close again. It burnt. God, it burnt. Yet his dick did not wilt at all, instead it heightened his arousal. The feeling of being helpless and at Simon’s mercy was intoxicating. His hands scrambled to hold onto the sheets in a vice like grip. He bit into the blanket in hopes of muffling his pain filled whimpers. He did not want Simon to stop.

“Too much?” Simon whispered as he gently ran his trembling hand down Baz’s sweat soaked back. Baz was so tight. His walls were wrapped around Simon’s dick like a vice. He was all delicious heat and pressure. Simon wanted to thrust so badly, but firstly he had to make sure that it was not too much. Baz shook his head, but at the sound of a muffled sob, Simon frowned.

“Words, Baz,” Simon said as he placed a light kiss on his shoulder blade. The command Baz used to mock him with came out with the warmest concern. Baz shivered at the sound as he forced himself to speak as he was drowned in throes of pleasure. 

“More,” Baz whimpered out as his ears flushed. His voice was hoarse and interrupted by a lustful moan. Baz’s face was covered in tears and drool, yet he never looked more beautiful. Heat pooled low in Simon’s gut.

“You take it so well, Baz,” Simon whispered as he slowly pulled out. The tight inner walls dragged along his dick.

“Ah!” A high-pitched moan was driven out of him as Simon pushed back in. With it, all thoughts left him and only the feeling of Simon’s cock invading his very being remained.

“You’re perfect,” Simon whispered as he grabbed a hold of Baz’s ass cheeks and kneaded them. They were such a lovely shade of red.

A choked noise left Baz’s lips as Simon thrust into him. The pain from the spanking flared alive with Simon’s touch and a soft mewl left Baz’s lips.

“Beautiful,” Simon murmured between pants as he watched Baz fall apart on his cock. Continuous noises and breathy moans left Baz’s swollen lips. Tears ran down his face as his eyes were hazy and unfocused.

With each thrust, Baz lost all sense. It punched the air out of his lungs and left him lightheaded. Simon’s cock was splitting him apart, forming his body anew. So that he was made for his cock. His hole solely existed for Simon’s dick.

Each thrust dragged over his prostrate and made him tremble powerlessly. His limbs felt heavy and his head was filled with the sensation of being fucked. He couldn’t move his limbs at all. He could only take it. He squirmed and shivered with each move of Simon’s cock inside of him.

Baz mewled as a harsh thrust hit his prostate. Whimpers and whines fell from his lips without stopping. Each thrust now hit his prostate directly. He felt like a live wire.

Baz’s insides were fluttering around Simon’s cock and it made him moan lowly. Simon was losing himself in the tight heat of Baz’s body. He felt like he was burning up. He wanted to stay in there forever. Baz’s hole swallowed him completely and only reluctantly let him draw back. It was so hungry.

“Simon!” Baz moaned his name as the next thrust ground Simon’s cock directly into his prostate. Simon moaned at the sound. To hear Baz moan his name in the throes of pleasure was hot as fuck.

A shout left Baz’s lips as his dick pulsed. Come splattered onto the bed sheets. Baz’s body twitched as it was wracked by his aftershocks. His passage tightened and spasmed around Simon’s cock. A groan left his lips at the feeling.

Simon’s hips started to piston in and out of Baz’s inviting hole in search for his own release. The force rattled the bed and Baz scrambled to hold on to something, anything. Baz cried out with each thrust. His body convulsing and squirming underneath Simon. He was begging and sobbing. Tears trailed down his cheeks as his overly sensitive body was thrust into relentlessly. Pleasure and pain were intertwining till Baz no longer knew if it was painful or pleasurable.

It did not take long for Simon to come as well. He pressed into Baz’s body as deeply as possible. With a low groan he spilled into the tight heat of Baz’s hole. Baz let out a wrecked moan at the sensation.

Afterwards, Simon slumped forward, wrapping his arms around Baz tighty. His cock slipped out of Baz’s abused hole, a trickle of semen following it. A small whimper left Baz’s lips at the sudden feeling of loss. He felt so empty now. His hole tightened around nothing and twitched. Simon’s finger gently trailed along the abused rim. Baz shuddered at the sensation.

Simon rolled sideways, pulling Baz along with him till he lay on top of Simon. Baz could hear Simon’s heartbeat beneath him. When Simon noticed that Baz kept shivering he pulled the blanket out from beneath them to cover him. He did make sure that the soiled parts didn’t touch them.

“Please be careful,” Simon whispered as he tightened his hold on Baz. His world was still filled with fog. His body was still coming down from his high, so it took Baz a moment to hear the words.

“I promise,” he murmured as he wiggled around till he found the position he liked. He pressed his face into Simon’s neck and breathed him in. Simon was so warm and he smelled so good. Baz felt safe in his arms and slowly his eyes slipped shut.

Simon watched in amusement as Baz fell asleep again. It was not even 12 o'clock yet and Baz was out like a light. Simon intertwined their legs together and listened to Baz’s soft breathing. He was so soft and vulnerable in Simon’s arms, so unlike his normal prickly self. There was no way in hell that he would allow Baz to be hurt again. He swore that nothing would hurt Baz ever again.


End file.
